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£R NUMBER, 1903

Away from the Cares of State—President Roosevelt ready to enter Yellowstone Park.

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Walks a* in
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Stories and Poems descriptive of
Nature and her Seasons. Illustrated
with 24 full-page plates made
from beautiful photographs taken
by an expert and a nature lover.

HOW TO READ MR. WHITING’S BOOK TO BEST
ADVANTAGE AND GREATEST ENJOYMENT:

Browse on it. Take it up and run through the pages, stopping at a
title which attracts you. Read it leisurely, and conjure up before your
mind’s eye the scene described by one who knows Nature and loves her.

Charles Goodrich Whiting

Published by John Lane, New York,

8 vo. Price $1.50 Net.

The TRAVELLER

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Beatrice, Nebr,, Sept. 27, 1901.

AtOIS P. SWOBODA, Esq.

Dear Sir: I feel only right to send you an acknowledge¬
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of physiological training.

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My System is as elastic as human need. It would obviously be foolish to offer the man or woman
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and effects, together -vith testimonial letters from pupils.

ALOIS P. SWOBODA, 581 unity, Chicago.

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TRAVELLER

Published Quarterly

DEVOTED TO TRAVEL, ART AND EDUCATION

DANIEL J. ELLISON, D.D., Editor.

Vol. Ill

June, 1903.

No. 1

The Children of The Sunrise Kingdom.

CONTENTS

Frontispiece—D arjeeling, Upper India, ...........

The Travels of the Presidents, .....

The Editor, ....

The ’Frisco of Canada, ......

Cy. Warman, ....

Spanish Life, ........

H. IT. Powers, Ph. D., .

Sailor Chanties, ........

George Noble, ....

Benares, the Sacred City of the Hindus,

A. F. Williams Jackson, L. IT. D.,

Bullbeggor’s Balance, ......

T. Jenkins ITains,

The Mount of the Holy Cross, Colorado, .

Robert Mackay,

Darjeeling—Under the Towering Himalayas,

James Ricalton,

The Snow Festival at Rome, .....

U. C. Lund, ....

4 1

A Glimpse at British Guiana, .....

A. J. D. Wedemeyer,

On the Trail of Three Travellers, ....

M. S. Emery, ....

The Battle of the Flowers, .....

The Editor, ....

My Interview with Aguinaldo, .....

Harry Steele Morrison,

Conflict of Ideas in the Far East, ....

The Use of the Stereoscope in School Geography,

Jacques W. Redway, F. R. G. S.,

International Travellers’ Club, .....

Switzerland, ........

M. S. Emery, ....

Homiletical Windows to the Holy Land, .

Rev. Daniel Shepardson, Ph. D.,

A Proof and a Method, ......

Theodore Brown,

ERNEST HART PRINTING COMPANY.
ROCHESTER, N. Y.

DARJEELING—UPPER INDIA.

The TRAVELLER

The Travels of the

Presidents.

THE EDITOR.

UCH of the interest
and virile strength of
the present age is due
to the multiplicity of
striking and, ofttimes,
perplexing contrasts
which characterize
it — contrasts not
alone in things
that are essentially
different, so much
as in those that
are presumably
alike. For i n-
stance, presidents of republics, the world over,
hold their office by virtue of the expressed will
of the people ; and since in vast aggregations of humanity, the
ordinary citizens are always in the majority, they may be said
to be the choice of the common people, who are at the same
time their fellow-citizens. Therefore, we should not expect a
president to be hedged about with military or court splendor,
but we should look for and demand in him dignity, simplicity, and manhood—
dignity that is not exclusiveness, simplicity that is not vulgarity and a man¬
liness not inconsistent with the character of a perfect gentleman. With kings, however,
it would be otherwise, for royalty is naturally environed with splendor, formality, and
stateliness. Devoid of majesty and grandeur a king is commonplace, if not grotesque.

In view of these facts how noteworthy and suggestive a study are the travels of
the Presidents. Recently the world has regarded with considerable interest the
journeys of President Loubet and President Roosevelt, and every intelligent observer
has been impressed with the fact that while they were alike in some respects, in
others they were vastly different.

The travels of these high officials were alike in that they extended over a con¬
siderable area and penetrated beyond the bounds of civilization, passing, for a time,
out of the reach of telegraphs and telephones. President Loubet entered into
the great desert country of Southern Algeria, with its sparse and burned vege-

*The President speaking at North-Western University, Evanston, Ill. “ We need training in body and mind.”

Illustrated by Stereographs taken by
Mr. H. A. Strohmeyer, who accompa¬
nied President Roosevelt on his trans¬
continental trip.

Page 4

The TRAVELLER

tation, where the stretches of sand and
blistering sunshine produce the curious
effects of mirage. The tribesmen gath¬
ered in thousands, many of them coming
hundreds of miles across the desert, to do
him honor. Their tents were arranged
after the Arab custom, each tribe occupy¬
ing a large circle, in the centre of which
were droves of richly harnessed camels.
The chiefs were mounted on horses, but
the tribesmen were on camels and formed
great caravans. Over eight thousand men
participated in a ceremony of more than
Oriental splendor. A superb tent of camel
hair fabrics and Arab tapestries was erected
for President Loubet. As each tribe
passed in review its chief dismounted and
paid homage to the President of France,
who distributed decorations to the princi¬

pal leaders. After the review came a
native fantasia, or exhibition of sports.
There were feats of horsemanship in
which all the native cavalry participated,
wheeling across the plain and charging
toward the station occupied by the Presi¬
dent, pulling up their horses in a wild
dash within three hundred yards of his
position. A mimic combat followed, which
represented an attack upon and capture
of a caravan by a desert tribe. The cere¬
monies were brought to a close by a grand
“ diffa,” or Arab banquet, given by the
chiefs in honor of M. Loubet. The
menu, which was printed in Arab and
French, included such desert delicacies as
roast gazelle and camel’s milk. Dances
executed by celebrated native beauties
followed the banquet, and, after an ex¬
hibition of native methods of hunting,
which included a hare chase by trained
falcons, the day’s entertainment ended.
The President then started on his return
journey to Saida. The tribesmen, mount¬
ing their horses, rode at full gallop along
side the train as long as they could keep
up the pace, their many colored bernouses
fluttering in the wind, making a brilliant
picture.

President Roosevelt while on his trip
spent the greater part of the month of
April in the fastnesses of the Yellowstone
Park, enjoying complete rest and cessa¬
tion from public duties. In company
with John Burroughs, the naturalist, who
accompanied him from
Washington, he studied
the nature of the animals
who inhabit the Park.
The President had looked
forward to this outing for
some time and was in a
particularly happy frame
of mind when he led the
cavalcade into the Park.
He was dressed in riding

President Roosevelt at Lake City, Minn.

EXECUTIVE MANSION, WASHINGTON,
(North front view of the White House.

Page 6

The TRAVELLER

President
Roosevelt
at La Crosse,
Wisconsin.

In Town Hall
at Medora,
his former
Home.

At La Crosse,
Wisconsin.

breeches and coat, with a light-colored
slouch-hat on his head. Then mounting
his horse—a big, magnificent animal of
mottled grey color,* he made a brief
address to the people congregated near
his train, and having bade good-bye to
the members of his official party he led
the way into the Park. Mr. Burroughs
followed in an army wagon. The horse
the President rode belonged to Troop B,
Third Cavalry, and is one of the surest-
footed animals in the Park. He showed
what he could do
on the first day out.

To reach the first
camp it was neces-.
saryto traverse for
about two miles a
narrow mountain¬
ous trail, which
was covered with
ice. Some of the
party dismounted

and led their
horses down the
trail, for a mis¬
step meant death
or serious injury,
but the Presi¬
dent stucktothe
saddle, guiding
his mount safely
down the incline.

Every trail
leading into the
preserve was
carefully guarded
by troops and no one was permitted
to enter from the outside world to
disturb the President’s solitude. His
headquarters were at the home of
Major Pitcher, the Superintendent of
the Park. Several camps were estab¬
lished in different localities through¬
out the region and these were occu¬
pied by Mr. Roosevelt from time to
time. For sixteen days the President
lived “ near the ground,” wandering
through these grand and mighty
primeval haunts, and communing
with the birds and beasts who alone
inhabit them—a marvelous antidote

* See front cover.

PRESIDENT ROOSEVELT AT WINONA, MINN.

for the feverish strenuousness of high
official life. He would lie for hours near a
herd of elk or mountain goats, and would
frequently walk eight or ten miles to ob¬
serve them. He also studied bird life with
Mr. Burroughs, and showed himself par¬
ticularly well posted on this subject. The
naturalist was able to show him but one
bird with which he was not acquainted,
namely, the soltaire.

The party was fortunate in running
across game. Thousands of elk and deer

and quite a number of mountain sheep
and goats were encountered and their
habits were closely studied. The Presi¬
dent and his companions also saw many
strange birds, and became quite enthusi¬
astic over some of the feathered tribes
that inhabit the Park. Mr. Burroughs
tells a good story in connection with
the birds. The party were sitting around
the camp fire one night when Mr. Bur¬
roughs, whom, by the way, the Presi¬
dent has nicknamed “ Oom John,” on

THE TRAVELS OF THE PRESIDENTS

Page 9

account of his flowing white whiskers,
heard a strange call. He did not recog¬
nize it and asked Bill Hoffer, the guide
and trapper, what it was.

“ That’s an owl,” said Bill.

“ Oh, no,” replied the President and
Mr. Burroughs, “ an owl does not sound
that kind of a call.” Thereupon the
party started out to locate the bird. They
finally discovered it perched on the topmost
bough of a tall tree. It was too far away
to be plainly discerned with the naked eye.

‘ You keep that bird treed, Oom John,”
said the President, “ and I will go and get
the glasses.”

When the bird was brought into vision
by the powerful glasses, it proved to be a
dwarf owl. Bill Hoffer was vindicated.

So much for the similarity between the
journeys of the Presidents. Now for the
contrasts. They differed in this particu¬
lar, at least, that M. Loubet’s was more
majestic than Mr. Roosevelt’s. The
French President travelled through France
and Algeria accompanied by nearly the
whole governmental staff and with civil
and military honors, and before disembark¬
ing from the warship which conveyed him
across the Mediterranean, he received a
magnificent ovation from the assembled
squadrons of the great nations of the
world. In the ordinary acceptation of the
term, there was, on his part, no mingling
with the people through whose territory
he passed. No one was allowed to ap¬
proach him who was not an official, or an
especially privileged person, and his liberty
was rigorously restricted ; all of which was
doubtless a matter of the latitude and
conditions under which the journey was
effected.

On the other hand, Mr. Roosevelt trav¬
elled merely as the first citizen of the
American Republic, surrounded by every¬
thing that could contribute to his personal
comfort, but dispensing with all official
pomp and aides-de-camp and masters of
ceremony, allowing nothing to control his
words or actions. His route spanned a
continent which comprises a republic of
wealth and power, the mightiest in the
world, and yet, though he was the chief
executive of this great nation, he main¬
tained throughout his journey the greatest

simplicity and even familiarity. His re¬
ception by the people of the great West
was the most enthusiastic ever accorded
any man : wherever he went he encoun¬
tered, not the ovation which a subject
people render to the approaching conqueror
and ruler, but the spontaneous and affec¬
tionate welcome that springs from kinship
and fraternity—that brothers offer to the
brother best beloved.

THE WEST’S GREETING TO HER FOSTER CHILD.

J. W. Foley, Jr., in Bismarck Tribune.

He’s cornin’ back as President—th’ man we used
t’ know

As jes’ plain Teddy Roosevelt, nigh twenty years
ago ;

He’s cornin’ back as President; it don’t seem
hardly true,

But it’s writ thar in th’ streamers o’ th’ old red,
white, and blue ;

He’s cornin’ back as President ; a friend t’ you
an’ me,

An’ th’ head o’ eighty million o’ th’ freest souls
thet’s free ;

He’s back in his ol’ stampin' ground—th’ land
thet loves him best,

In th’ fairest, squarest country in this land o’
ourn—the West !

Place du Government and Mosque
el Djedid, Algiers.

D’ye wonder thet them streamers is a’ floatin’
middlin’ high ?

D’ye wonder why them flags is p’intin’ up thar t’
the sky ?

D’ye mind them cannon boomin’; y’ can almost
hear ’em say,

In a voice like rumblin’ thunder: ‘‘Teddy’s
cornin’ hyar t-day !”

An’ the West, his foster-mother, stall’s with tears
in her glad eyes,

With sunshine in her swellin’ heart, like sunlight
in her skies,

Her arms outstretched t’ welcome him ; her voice

upraised t’ call :

He’s coming back as
President; God bless
him !” an’ that’s all.

The ’Frisco of Canada.

BY CY WARMAN.

T HAT great white sea-gull, “ The
Empress of China,” had just arriv¬
ed at Vancouver from the Orient. Empty
sleepers and drawing-room cars had been
dead-headed across the continent, three
thousand miles, to carry her passengers
east. The people from the big liner were
dressed for dinner ; they were dining when
we arrived.

A stringed orchestra, hid away off some¬
where in the palms and shrubs that filled
the great hall of the dining room, was
breathing soft melody on the summer air.
The music, the smell of roses, the sparkle
of jewels and the wide white shirt fronts,
made one think of New York or London.
But it was Vancouver, the ’Frisco of Can¬
ada, standing where the Columbian pine
grew straight and tall only a few short
years ago. In proof of this they have wise¬
ly preserved a big park with native forests
still standing. In the suburbs, in the new
additions that are rapidly building up, they
have to grub great stumps before they can
grade the streets. These stumps lying by
the roadside reach up as high as a trolley
car.

The site of this city of thirty thousand
souls was cleared in May 1886, but in
July of that year a forest fire destroyed
every house in the camp save one, and out
of this blackened waste rose the city of
Vancouver, that stands high above Coal
Harbor, watching the growing fleet going
out and coming back, to and from the
Orient, and wondering why the capitol
buildings of British Columbia should stand
on the Island after which she was named
instead of standing on the mainland, in
Canada’s unrivaled port on the Pacific.

Unlike Winnipeg, Vancouver has good
hotels, as well as fine houses, electric cars,
beautiful parks and broad, paved streets,

upon the feet of which, here and there,
the ocean’s billows break.

It is the most important outfitting post
on the coast in Canada, as well as the
principal point of departure for Alaska,
the Klondike, Cape Nome and other
northern gold fields. There is a regular
steamship service to Victoria, Nanaimo,
’Frisco, China and Japan, and to Sydney,
Australia, via Honolulu. As trade and
commerce increases between the Orient
and America this city will thrive, for it is
the one Canadian gate-way to the land of
the rising sun. In the heart of the City,
substantially built, in the splendid hotel or
railway station it is hard to believe that the
pathfinders who opened up this paradise to
the world camped all the way out in a
wilderness and finally rested here on the
shores of the Pacific in the depths of a
virgin forest; that it was only a little over
a dozen years ago that the ” hereditary
Lord of all America,” as the immortal
Stevenson put it, heard in this last fastness
the scream of the bad medicine wagon,
charioting his foes. We all know how
our own west was awakened by the magic
touch of steel fingers that reached across
the continent in 1869, how the iniquities
of the builders, real or imaginary, were
forgiven and forgotten in the glory of the
achievement; how the desert has been
made to blossom and the wilderness has
been transformed into the abiding place of
twenty million men, women and children,
who, now, after three decades, rise up and
call the pathfinder blessed. But here in
Canada the results of the first trans-con¬
tinental railway have been more surprising,
the benefits more marked and the devel¬
opment of the country as great and rapid
as was the growth of the middle and far
west. The task was all the more hopeless

THE ’FRISCO OF CANADA

Page 11

here. The Union Pacific, with fifteen
hundred miles of substantial, settled coun¬
try, millions of people and millions of
money behind it, built across two thousand
miles of unwatered wilderness, and the re¬
sult was wonderful.

The Canadian Pacific, with a fringe of
settlers along the Atlantic, built through
three thousand miles of unknown, unmap¬
ped country and the result is amazing. At
first it was “six sleeps in a sleeper from
Montreal.” To-day the Imperial Limited
crosses the continent in four days.

Fifteen years ago we knew that there
was a wide waste of country, trackless
prairies, high mountains and cold forests,
stretching to the north of the boundary.
That was about all we knew. When we
thought of Canada we shivered. To this
day the “ typical ” Canadian scene, painted
on the ceiling of a London theatre, is of a
man muffled to the eyes, holding the string
of a sled upon which rests all that is mor¬
tal of a moose or reindeer. And while
the untraveled English gaze upon this wild
scene; this libel in oil; over her iron
highways the wheat and the meat, the
wood and the wool, the coal and the gold
of Canada are being distributed to the four
corners of the earth. Along this steel trail
the mail from the Orient, via the Occident
is racing round the whirling world. Mil¬
lions are spent annually building new lines
to the mines, to the fields and to the for¬
ests, but the resourceful country, respond¬
ing gives it back with interest.

The Mayor of Vancouver is provided
with an “Entertainment Fund” and if
you have the least excuse for being on
earth, or show signs of interest in the place,
his worship will hitch up and show you the
town. Mr. Thompson, my traveling com¬
panion carried a letter to the Mayor from
an alderman whom we met at Atlin, but
we kept it and took a trolley, leaving the
Mayor free to give his undivided attention
to Indians from India and Lords from
London.

After a good night’s rest we boarded
the Imperial Limited along with the dis¬

tinguished people from the Empress and
started eastward. For the first few hours
the ride reminds one of Southern Texas,
only we miss the negro and the nightin¬
gale, the watermelon and the alligator.

In a few hours we begin the ride
through the canon of the Fraser River, a
wild, wonderful bit of scenery. In June
of the same year I had ridden down the
canon on the pilot of the locomotive pull¬
ing the west-bound Limited. It was morn¬
ing, the air fresh and cool, and as the
great engine swung on the curves and re¬
verse curves, the ride became thrilling.
Now and then we darted through a short
tunnel that had been driven through the
solid wall and a moment later swung out
on a shelf of rock and heard the river
roaring beneath us, drowning the roar of
the train. Immense rocks that have fallen
from the high walls stand in the middle of
the stream and the swift current striking
them, sends the water in white sheets, or
a million sprays, and in the mist myriads
of minature rainbows dance. The engine
screams and darts round a curve and a
Chinese or Indian, or some sort of dark-
skinned track-walker, leaps from the toe
path as we brush by. The only fear I feel
is that the engine will scoop up one of
these yellow section men and land him in
my lap. For fifty minutes I sat and list¬
ened to the click of the pony-truck as the
flanges were slammed up against the rail,
felt the cool air on my face, and saw the
scenes shifted as in a theatre.

These canons are wild and grand, but
to me the chief charm of the Canadian
Rockies are the lakes that lie close up un¬
der the sky. Of course the glaciers are
grand, wierd, cold, desolate, awful; but to
stand on the rear car of the Limited and
watch these little blue-green, land-locked
seas slip by, is to stand near to nature.
Beautiful lakes there are in many parts of
the world, but none like these. Lakes so
crystal clear that you cannot know, look¬
ing across to the farther shore, where the
lake leaves off and the land begins. Away
over there are two mountains exactly
alike, only one is standing on its head.
One of these minature seas we skirted for
eighteen miles. It is a beautiful sheet of
water with a harsh unpoetic name. It is
called “ Salmon Arm.”

Spanish Life.

H. H. POWERS, PH. D.

Merry hours with
the pretty Senor-
itas of Cadiz—
Gardens of a
suburban home.

Illustrated from original Stereographs.

appeal of childhood and
buoyancy of youth, the
same ardor of man
for maid, and the
same domineering
impulse of ma-
turer years.
There is the
same sympathy
with distress
and resent¬
ment of recog¬
nized wrongs that makes us all human.
No gruesome glimpse of the bullfight
or the Inquisition should blind us for
a moment to the fact that Spain is
wholly human and is broadly charac¬
terized by all the best and the worst
that that name implies. The traveller in
these unfrequented parts, prepared for
every experience except the right one, is
surprised by nothing so much as the fact
that he feels perfectly at home. Irving
may conjure up the spirits of a strange past
in the deserted halls of the Alhambra, but
that past is wholly past, and the men who
meet the visitor at every turn would pass
unnoticed in Broadway or Pall Mall.
The stranger in the streets of Madrid
may accost the passerby in his own ver¬
nacular through sheer inadvertence, only
to be reminded by a vacant stare that he
is not at home but in Spain. Intimate
acquaintance does not dispel the illusion.
In particular it confirms the discovery that
they are a kindly people, well minded
toward their kind, and equally free from
obsequiousness and suspicion toward for¬
eigners, even those with whom they have
had recent and grave misunderstandings.

But when the humanity of Spain has
fully come to us, her peculiarities will

r I ''HE universal-
ity of our great
human needs, —
the need of food to
still our hunger, of shelter from the inclem¬
encies of the weather, of friendship and
love, of pride and domination—gives a broad
sameness to the human lot more striking
to the thoughtful observer than all possible
differences of time or place. To the
superficial traveller, ever on the lookout
for the novel and the queer, this uni¬
formity is often disappointing. To the
serious observer it can not but be as re¬
assuring as it is significant. The first
thing to be noticed, therefore, as we turn
our attention upon this unique people so
long stationed at this outpost of the world,
is that they are mostly like ourselves.
Despite all makeshift and evasion, daily
bread is won here as elsewhere by daily
toil, by making terms with mother earth.
The round of life brings the same helpless

SPANISH LIFE

Page 13

again demand our attention. Such peculi¬
arities characterize every people, varying
with the degree to which isolation, cli¬
matic conditions and historic accident have
served to differentiate them from the nor¬
mal human experience. These influences
have been peculiarly active in Spain and
the results are correspondingly pronounced.

Wandering through the streets of the
little village that clusters within the walls
of the Alhambra, I noticed a young man,
faultlessly dressed, standing before the
window of one of the houses. The win¬
dow was not a large plate glass or spacious
sash giving a view into the well ordered
parlor, but a small opening in a white¬
washed wall, high above the sidewalk, so
that the passerby, if inclined to look,
would only get a glimpse of the dimly-
lighted ceiling. The small sash opened
like a door, inward, and the opening was
farther protected by iron bars, almost
prison-like in character. I thought nothing
of it at first, but seeing him again and
again at the post where he apparently
remained for some hours at a time, I was
moved to investigate. An acquaintance
informed me that the young man was
“ eating iron.” The answer was mystify¬
ing until I observed a pair of black eyes
and a pretty girlish face be-
hind the bars, a face quite
sufficient to explain
all I had witnessed.

Then the truth
dawned upon me, a
truth afterwards ex¬
plained in detail by
my acquaintance.

This was a Spanish
courtship. I was
informed that it was
a perfectly regular
case. The young
man in question had
been paying his re¬

spects to the young lady within for about
a year and a half, his visits gradually increas¬
ing in frequency and length until now they
were daily and several hours in duration.
The mother sat inside, in hearing, but not
in sight. During all this time he had never
been presented to the object of his affec¬
tion or had admission to her house. They
had merely “scraped” an acquaintance
and this was the proper thing and the
only proper thing. In six months or a
year more, if the parents approved, the
young man would be invited in and
formally presented to his future wife.

Strangely reversed, all this seemed, as
compared with our own system. The
propriety of acquaintance without intro¬
duction, the impropriety of introduction
as a preliminary to acquaintance, all seemed
to go by contraries. But as usual the
contradiction was only apparent. The
Spaniard is separated from the object of
his admiration by a barrier of iron, the
American by a barrier of conventionality.
Given the iron and the social form be¬
comes unnecessary. The barrier is the
essential thing and each has a barrier after
its kind. The iron barrier seems need¬
lessly harsh, but my acquaintance thought
not. Spanish youth was “ todo fuoco ,”
all fire, he said, and required very ma¬
terial restraints. It seemed to me
that such restraint
was found not only
in the iron but in
the publicity thus
given to courtship.
I could not help
wondering if rivals
ever spied or small
boys guyed the ar¬
dent suitor. Appar¬
ently not. The
system has devel¬
oped national man¬
ners suited to its

Falls of the Gaudalevin, the great gorge and New Bridge
(1761 A. D.) Ronda.

Page 14

The TRAVELLER

exercise. Staring seemed inadmissible.
And after all what was there in such a
courtship to interest an outsider ? But the
young people seemed to enjoy it.

Once the ordeal is passed and the en¬
gagement is consummated, it is announced
by a change in the color of the flowers
which the lady wears in her hair. This
almost universal custom of personal adorn¬
ment is thus utilized in the interest of
social convention. The red flower means
that the maid is still to be won, the white
flower that her choice is made, the yellow
that she has quarreled with her lover,
while the matron dispenses with flowers
altogether.

If the outside of a Spanish house with
its small barred windows is uninviting to
our western ideas, this is fully atoned for
by the court, that inside outside of the
house so characteristic of the Orient and
especially of Moorish Spain. There is a
proverb known far beyond the limits of
Spain: “Whom God loves, to him he
gives a house in Seville.” He would
indeed be hard to suit who would not
esteem such a gift a signal favor. The
appartments are grouped around a central
court or patio , in size about equal to a
large room and open to the sky. If space
is ample, the upper story is provided with
a balcony running round the court. The
scheme is a simple one and known to all
countries of sunshine and predominant
summer except our own summer lands.
The peculiarity of the Sevillian court is to
be found in the way the scheme is carried
out. For a thousand years it has been
the custom to pave and wainscot these
courts with exquisite glazed and figured
tiles. The tiles of the Alhambra and the
various Moorish palaces are literal mosaics,
the patterns being made of separate pieces
cut with infinite delicacy from the hard,
brittle tile, sometimes long strips not more
than an eighth of an inch in width fitted

with hair joints. The ordinary house is
naturally less prodigal of cost, and con¬
tents itself with figures carefully executed
upon the surface of the tile. These are
uniformly delicate in workmanship and
tasteful in design and give to the patio a
beauty unrivaled by any interior elegance
of our own.

An invariable feature of the patio is the
fountain playing in the center. The
sparkling mist thus scattered wide drinks
up the heat of the summer sun and gives
to the patio the refreshing coolness of
an eternal spring. In this mellowed
warmth flourish palms and flowers in
tropical luxuriance. The easiest chairs,
the dantiest draperies, and the most lux¬
uriant appointments that the house can
boast, add their seductive charms to this
marriage of nature and art, and make a
luxury of existence.

The patio opens upon the street by
a spacious passageway, also paved and
walled with tiles and guarded by its great
screen door, a mazy lacelike curtain of
woven iron which is the great artistic
glory of Seville. There are as many pat¬
terns as there are doors, each a marvel of
artistic design. An artist who was fas¬
cinated with these marvels asked our
Spanish host: “What firm makes these
doors, and do they publish a book of
designs?” The host stared in amazement
at this characteristically American inquiry.
The meaning at last becoming clear, he
replied: “There is no firm and there are
no designs. A man drives nails into a
board and bends the iron around them.
He drives the nails just to suit himself and
never twice alike.” Then we understood
why we enjoyed them so much.

If the street is one of the best, no
rumbling carts or dust raising hoofs ob¬
struct our passage. The main street of
Seville is itself a larger patio paved with
broad, clean stones, and completely over-

SPANISH LIFE

Page 1 5

hung with awnings. Life is not strenuous
in this Sevillian Broadway, but it is in¬
finitely comfortable with room for the
amenities of life and even for the castanets
and the dance.

Whether the smooth tiles have tempted
the Spaniard to cleanliness, or cleanly in¬
stincts are responsible for the tiles is hard
to tell. But the Spaniard at his best is
surprisingly clean. A Sevillian patio will
rival a Dutch dairy in immaculateness,
while even the outside of the humblest
dwellings is treated to frequent applica¬
tions of the whitewash brush, that invalu¬
able decorator and germicide whose services
are nowhere so appreciated as in Spain.
I have driven through the poorest quarters
of Seville without finding a house in which
I should dread to spend the night. In
what American city could one have that
experience? To one just come from
Naples, Seville seems a new heaven and a
new earth. The Spaniard does not always
maintain the Sevillian standard in other
cities, still less in the colonies, but the
tradition of the Moor is for something
more than ceremonial washing.

That there is shadow as well as sun¬
shine in Spanish life goes without saying.
But even the shadows have their pictur¬
esqueness and cast little gloom over the
spirit. With all its charm, Spanish life is
not sumptuous in its provision. Impecuni¬
ousness seems universal, and beggary is
both pastime and occupation. But under
the beggar’s cheap affectation of misery
there is an evident content which deadens
the sympathy too spontaneously felt by
those to whom beggary is a last resort and
a sign of deepest despair. The merry glee
of childish sport includes gay little begging
frolics in its program, child and adult
being alike oblivious of disgrace or of
harmful reactions from the national pas¬
time. Not until we approach Gibraltar,
where the strenuous temper of the north

mingles in turbid stream with the happy
nonchalance of the south, does begging
change to a savage parasitism, alike despic¬
able and annoying.

No account of Spanish life can omit
the bullfight, to the Spaniard the bright¬
est, and to us the darkest, spot in his
holiday existence. With amazing per¬
tinacity the sport persists, despite the
efforts of statesmen and moralists and even
in defiance of papal decrees, exerting its
strange fascination over all classes, and
appealing to man, woman, and child alike.
Centuries of special breeding have de¬
veloped a bull for this sport utterly unlike
anything we know, the most splendid and
the most terrible beast on earth. Tall and
slender limbed, quick as a weasel, and
fleet as a deer, the weight and strength of
his huge frame is concentrated in his
shoulders and neck, enabling him to hurl
a horse from his magnificent horns, long
and curved like a scimitar, and pointed as
a poniard.

Imagine yourself seated in a circular
grand stand where seat rises above seat to
an immense height, the round arena being
bounded by a high board fence with a rail
about two feet from the ground on which

Patio, or Main
Court, House of
Pilate—belong¬
ing to the Duke
of Medinaceli—
Seville.

Page i6

The TRAVELLER

the nimble toreador places his foot to leap
the fence if the bull becomes too attentive.
The crowd is ready and expectant, the
sand is raked and leveled. The door is
opened and the performers enter in parade.
Half a dozen horsemen head the group,
spurring their wretched worn-out steeds to
a feeble gallop. Others come on foot, and
most splendid of all, three magnificent
mules harnessed abreast, gay with red and
yellow streamers, dash vigorously across
the arena followed by drivers and fleet-
footed attendants. The parade is quickly
finished and work begins. The mules and
part of the personnel withdraw, the horses
are blindfolded and all is still. Suddenly
another door is opened and the bull, galled
and maddened by way of preparation,
dashes into the arena. There is a mo¬
ment’s pause and then he charges the
nearest horse, burying his long horn in his
body and hurling him writhing to the
ground. The horseman does nothing but
save himself by a dextrous leap aided by
the long pole which he carries. With all
his skill he is sometimes caught under the
falling horse and is extricated by attend¬
ants, while the bull, guided by the mad¬
dening red rag, is directed against another
horse which awaits, motionless and help¬
less, the moment of his fate. The fallen
horse meanwhile is examined. If utterly
disabled he is dispatched by a short dagger
driven into the spine at the base of the
skull. But if the wound is not immedi¬
ately fatal he is kicked and pulled and
lifted to his feet and steered around,
perhaps with gushing entrails, to receive
from the bull a more effectual thrust. In
all this there is not a vestige of horseman¬
ship, spirited action, or clever manoeuvre.
The horse is merely a convenient and im¬
pressive means of showing off the bull’s
magnificent prowess and, incidentally, of
tiring him out. By the time he has
killed half a dozen horses (about the

usual allowance) he is considerably tamed.
All through he is irritated and baffled by
the flaunted rag at which he rushes in
vain. The man merely jumps aside and
the bull’s momentum carries him past.

When the horses are all killed and the
bull begins to refuse the challenge, there
appear four functionaries, each armed with
two round sticks some two feet long and
as large as broomsticks. They are wound
in spirals of gaily colored ribbons which
form long streamers at one end, the other
being furnished with an iron barb an inch
long. Again the rag is flaunted by an
attendant and the bull finally charges.
The attendant jumps one way and the
bearer of the barbs the other, and as the
bull darts past the latter are thrust into his
shoulder. The thrust is quick and skillful,
the bull is furious, and the crowd cheers
frantically. Then two are thrust into the
other shoulder, then two more into the
first, and again two into the second. The
purpose is to give the man a chance for
deftness and to keep up the waning fury of
the splendid brute until the end. Then
the final moment comes. The hero of
the ring appears, often greeted with deaf¬
ening cheers from his admiring audience.
He is armed with a sword, long and
straight, and a rag much redder than any
the bull has seen before. The rag is
flaunted and the bull is baffled till he will
respond to no further challenge. Then
the denouement can proceed with safety.
The sword is held straight out on a level
with the swordsman’s eye, then quick as
lightning it is thrust forward and down¬
ward through the shoulders to the heart,
and the great brute falls in his tracks, the
dagger thrust making certain the work of
the sword. This sword thrust is a matter
of infinite nerve and skill and one with
regard to which the crowd are plainly con¬
noisseurs. To be able to make the stroke
unerring, above all to be willing to risk it

SPANISH LIFE

Page 17

while still the bull is in fighting mood,
forestalling the thrust of the awful horns
by the daring thrust of the unerring
sword, makes a man a hero in Spain. It
has earned men a larger income than we
pay the President of the United States,
and won for him, when at last a victim to
the terrible horns, a funeral such as Spain
never gave to a king.

The great brute once fallen, the gates
fly open and the great mules dash in at a
gallop with streamers flying and attendants
bounding at breakneck speed. Behind
them drags a heavy evener and hook into
which, as the team passes at cyclone pace,
is deftly caught the noose already placed
around the neck of the dead horses or the
horns of the bull, and the carcasses plow
the sand as they disappear through the
broad gateway. Out and in go the mules,
clearing the arena almost in a minute,
offering to the unsophisticated outsider the
most stirring scene in the drama. The
ground is leveled, the ugly spots sprinkled
over with fresh sand, and the same scene
is re-enacted. Six or seven bulls make a
satisfactory Sunday afternoon entertain¬
ment.

It is easy to be harsh, hard to be just.
We see the brutality of the sport and not
its skill. With our own sports it is the
reverse. What would a Spaniard see in
ours ? Our sports pit man against man,
and our ethics are those of even match
and fair play. The Spaniard pits man
against beast, and the victory of the former
is a foregone conclusion. Which makes
man kindest toward his kind is not as easy
to say, nor is that quite the whole ques¬
tion. Whatever our philosophizing, the
facts of Spanish life are there to check our
hasty condemnation. The genial temper,
the refined courtesy, and unfailing chivalry
of Spanish character are second to those of
no other people, however incompatible
they may seem with customs that we
abhor. We are all built in watertight
compartments and, thanks to the strange
grace of inconsistency, the kindly and
gentle within us lives on in unconscious
proximity to the coarse instincts of the
brute which the sad necessities and the
accidents of life have kept alive within us.
We are duly shocked at our neighbors’
inconsistencies and reconciled to our own.

Really to esti¬
mate the ethical
and humane de¬
velopment of a
people, requires a
degree of self cor¬
rection and of
sympathetic in¬
sight of which
few are capable.
The task is long
and the end un¬
certain. Let us
wait till the judg¬
ment day.

A Navigator taking the sun at mid-day.

A Norwegian Barque in the Orinoco River.

Sailor Chanties.

An Interesting Account of the Quaint Songs Sung by Seamen of all nations
at their work and during their times of recreation.

Written by a deep-water sailor.

BY GEORGE NOBLE.

OMETIMES whole books have been
written about “ sailor songs.” More
than half the old time sea stories refer, in
various places, to songs with a decidedly
nautical flavor to them, telling of “a wet
sheet and flowing sea,” of Jack’s being
“ every inch a sailor,” and so on without
end.

Yet, actually, the real sailor songs—
those sung by sailors and not about them,—
savor very little of romance, and seldom
have much to say about the doings of the
sailor himself or the advantages supposed
to be derived from fo’c’s’le life.

The real sailor songs are of two kinds
only— chanties, or working songs, and
stray ballads picked up by chance, in music
halls and sailor-town “ free and easies ”
in all quarters of the globe. The former
are of a most astonishing variety and have
little of the salt atmosphere about them ;
the latter, sung when all hands are idle
for a short time at twilight and gathered
about the fo’c’s’le door for a few mo¬
ments, before the night watches go on
deck, relate almost invariably to love and
drinking. Frequently, they will be ac¬

companied by the hoarse notes of a bat¬
tered accordeon belonging to some mem¬
ber of the crew, usually a Scandinavian.

Chanties started by a soloist, followed
by the crew in chorus, are used to assist
the singers and to insure concerted action
when an entire watch, or perhaps even all
hands, join their efforts in one heavy piece
of work. The choruses of chanties have
been the same for years and are known
the world over to all deep-water sailors,
who are real sailors—as distinguished from
steamboat deck hands. The verses,
although there are many time-honored
ones, may be composed off hand by the
soloist, and often amazing productions re¬
sult from an ingenious chantyman. In
the case of chanties—and in these alone—
sailors are allowed unusual freedom of
speech. Objectionable qualities possessed
by the captain and the mates are com¬
mented upon ; the poorness of the fo’c’s’le
food is freely discussed ; and reforms of
one sort and another in the management
and handling of the ship are suggested.
The officers, in accordance with an un¬
written law, affect not to hear the im-

SAILOR CHANTIES

Page i9

provisations of the chantyman, and some¬
times a second mate, heaving at a rope,
will join in a chorus to some solo that re¬
fers to himself in a most uncomplimentary
way.

A description of the first chanty I ever
heard will serve to give some idea of these
quaint, picturesque songs. Six days out
of New York we were bound on a deep
water ship around the Horn to San Fran¬
cisco. About seven o’clock at night we
were just coming out of half a day of
squalls. The moon was trying to break
out of the clouds and bit by bit we were
tacking on sail, as the foul weather drifted
away.

Suddenly, when we were sent to the
main upper topsail halyards (the heaviest
yard in the ship to hoist) a shrill voice
from the dark rigging above burst out in
the silence with a song. The man aloft
sung a line or two, then the rest of the
crew, who motionless and silent had tailed
out on the halyards on deck, roared out
the chorus, giving at the same time in
unison two long pulls. Then a pause
while another line was sung aloft, and so
on, back and forth until the great yard
was hoisted into place and the chanty was
interrupted by the hoarse “Belay!” of
the mate.

Poor Reuben Ranzo,” perhaps the
most widely known chanty on the ocean,
happened to be the one started that night.

Sing a song of Ranzo boys,

Cho.'—Ranzo, boys, Ranzo. (All pull).

Sing a song of Ranzo, boys,

Cho.— Poor Reuben Ranzo. (All pull).

He was a New York tailor,

Cho.—Ranzo, boys, Ranzo.

But thought he’d be a sailor,

Cho.—Poor Reuben Ranzo.

He went to school on Monday,

Cho.

Learnt to read on Tuesday,

Cho.

Learnt to write on Wednesday,

Cho.

Learnt to fight on Thursday,

Cho.

On Friday he beat the master,

Cho.

On Saturday we lost Reuben,

Cho.

Oh ! pity Reuben Ranzo.

Cho.—Ranzo, boys, Ranzo.

Oh ! Pity Reuben Ranzo.

Cho.—Poor Reuben Ranzo.

As popular a chanty as there is and one
on which the changes can be rung with¬
out limit is “Whiskey for my Johnny.”
Common verses to it are these :

Whiskey is the life of man,

Cho. — Whiskey! Johnny!

Oh ! whiskey is the life of man,

Cho.—For it’s whiskey for my Johnny.

Whiskey made me go to sea,

Cho.—Whiskey ! Johnny !

Oh ! whiskey made me go to sea.

Cho.—For it’s whiskey for my Johnny.

Other verses may be added, if the job
is a long one, telling why the singer wears
old clothes, what his various moves would
be if the ocean were made of whiskey;
and how, if he owned a whiskey shop, he
would attach it to a halyard block and
haul the crew up to the door, one by one.

In fine weather a vessel is commonly
pumped out but once a day, but in foul
weather, when the decks are covered with
water, this task is often necessary every
hour. Then—perhaps at midnight—the
crew will go down on the main deck and
while they man the pump wheels, at the
same time grasping the rigging round the
fife rail, at the mainmast,—ready to climb
for their lives when a wave tumbles over
the side—they will begin this chanty:

Storm along and round we go,

Cho.—*To me! Way! Storm along!

Storm along and round she’ll go,

Cho.—Tome! hi! hi! hi! Mister Stormalong.

Storm along through frost and snow,

Cho.—Tome! Way! Stormalong!

Storm along through frost and snow,

Cho.—To me !—hi ! hi ! hi !—Mister Stormalong.

Or if the storm is going down perhaps
these verses will be used :

Old Stormalong is dead and gone,

Cho.—To me ! Way ! Storm along !

Old Stormalong is dead and gone,

Cho.—Tome !—Hi ! hi! hi !—Mister Stormalong.

When Stormy died, I dug his grave,

* To me ! is intended to show which way the revolving pump
handles are to go.

Page 20

The TRAVELLER

Cho.

I dug his grave with a silver spade,

Cho.

I hove him up with an iron crane,

Cho.

And lowered him down with a golden
chain,

Cho.

The deep voices of the men accom¬
panied by the regular clank of the pump
and the shrill screaming of the wind in
the dark, bare rigging aloft forms a pic¬
ture never to be forgotten. Frequently
verses will be introduced paying flattery to
the personified storm. After this the
chantyman may ventilate his ideas, telling
how he would have a ship built and rigged;
what she should carry ; where she should
go ; how the crew would be fed on deli¬
cacies and grog, and so on till the pump
has “ sucked.”

Another pump chanty is “ The Banks

of the Sacramento,” but never yet have I

heard of any more than the following

words, repeated many times :

Blow, boys, blow, for Californy Oh !
There’s plenty of gold,

So I’ve been told,

On the banks of the Sacremento—O.

A famous chanty on English ships and

one that has a rather less mournful tune

to it than most is “ Blow the man down.”

Part of it is as follows:

I’m a true English sailor just in from Hong
Kong,

Cho.—Way ! Hay ! Blow the man down !

My stay on old England’s shore won’t be for
long,.

Cho.—Oh ! give me some time to blow the man
down !

Cho.—As I was a-walkin’ down Dennison Street,
Way ! Hay ! Blow the man down !

Cho.—As I was a-walkin' down Dennison Street,
Cho.— Oh ! Give me some time to blow the
man down.

A pretty young maiden I happened to meet,
Cho.—Way ! Hay ! Blow the man down !

A pretty young maiden I happened to meet.
Cho.—Oh ! Give me some time to blow the man
down.

Said she, “ Mr. Sailor, will you stand treat,
Cho.—Way ! Hay ! Blow the man down !

“Oh! yes, pretty maiden—next time we
meet.’’

Cho—Oh ! give me some time to blow the man
down.

English sailors are fond of the chanty
about Napoleon Bonaparte, which is used
at the halyards and is somewhat similar in
its time to “Whiskey for My Johnny.”
The first two verses :

Oh, Boney was a warrior,

Cho.—Way! Hay! Ha!

Oh ! Boney was a warrior,

Cho.—Jean Framjois.

Boney beat the Rooshins,

Cho.—Way ! Hay ! Ha !

The Prooshins and the Osstrians,

Cho.—Jean Francis.

Then it tells in detail of Marengo,
Moscow, Waterloo, St. Helena, and con¬
cludes :

Boney was taken prisoner,

Cho.—Way! Hay! Ha!

On board the Bully Ruffian,*

Cho.—Jean Francois.

Boney went to St. Helena,

Cho.

He never will come back again,

Cho.

Sometimes, perhaps in Hong Kong or
Calcutta, the following chanty may be
heard and certainly seems a little out of
place :

Did you never hear of that General ?

Cho.—Away ! Santa Anna !

Did you never hear of that General?

Cho.—Hurrah for Santa Anna.

We’re on the plains of Mexico,

Cho —Away ! Santa Anna !

We’re on the plains of Mexico,

Cho.—Hurrah for Santa Anna !

Santa Anna fought his way,

Cho.—All on the plains of Mexico,

Santa Anna gained the day,

Cho.—Hurrah for Santa Anna !

Very likely that peculiar chanty may
have originated in the days when they used
to have “checker-board” crews—one
watch white and the other watch black,
with the greatest rivalry between them.
Such a song would be one to appeal to
the southern negroes.

When in a crowded harbor the follow¬
ing chanty floats across the water from a
vessel weighing anchor, with her sails set,
bound for home, it arouses emotions in
the hearts of all who hear it which would
be hard to describe:

* Bellerophon.

SAILOR CHANTIES

Page 21

Pipe all hands to man the windlass,
See your cables stowed and clear;
We, to-day, set sail from India,

And for England’s shores we steer.
Cho.—

Rolling home ! Rolling home !
Rolling home across the sea,
Rolling home to dear old England,
Rolling home, sweetheart, to thee.

deep-water ships have been crowded off
the ocean, the chanties will become noth¬
ing more than a memory.

Though the quaint rhymes are seldom
heard on shore, the next time that
the reader, passing through sailor-town,

Mending Sails,

At the Equator.—Dog Bathing in Water Barrel.

miles from the nearest land, and many
hundred miles from any ship—makes one
reflect partly on the oddness of the situa¬
tion, but more on the insignificance of a
single individual in this tremendous ma¬
chine called the world.

How old chanties are, where they orig¬
inated, or what manner of man composed
them are questions that probably no man
can answer. Soon—very soon—when the

sniffs at seeing a deep water
sailor lounging about the streets
—out of his element, sick
from bad grog, penniless and
trying to find a ship as a refuge
from the boarding-masters—let
him stop and think a moment
before he makes the worn-
out remark about “ a common
drunken sailor.” No landsman,
with that one view only of the
sailor, can have any idea of the
true nature of the man—the nature which
makes him more loyal to his companions
than many a man who is tolerated and even
respected ashore. A nature, too, that makes
him able when in good health at sea, to sing
chanties at his work in the middle of heavy
weather on a black night, when he knows
as well as any one else that he may be strug¬
gling in mid-ocean in half an hour—perhaps
with a life preserver, perhaps without one.

If you all heave with a will, boys,
Soon our anchors we will trip ;

And will cross the briny ocean,

In our good and gallant ship.

Cho.—

Rolling home ! Rolling home !
Rolling home across the sea ;
Rolling home to dear old England,
Rolling home, sweetheart, to thee.

No musical instrument ever

accompanies these simple yet
strange sailor songs. The
effect, as they rise up from
the deck of a ship in mid¬
ocean—perhaps a thousand

Benares, the Sacred City of the Hindus.

ITS TEMPLES, ITS HOLY RIVER, AND ITS BURNING GHATS OF THE DEAD.

BY A. V. WILLIAMS JACKSON, L. H. D.

Professor of Indo-Iranian Languages, Columbia University.

B ENARES, the Holy City of India, with
its carved and golden temples, its
myriad minarets, its hallowed waters of
the Ganges, and its far-famed Burning
Ghats, is the Mecca of the Hindu pilgrim,
the Eternal Rome of
Brahmanism. Every pious
Hindu endeavors to make
a pilgrimage to this ven¬
erated spot at least once
in his lifetime, in order to
attain to Swarga, in the
world to come hereafter.

No better proof of its
sanctity is needed than to
quote the saying, so fa¬
miliar in Sanskrit, “ if ye
die in the waters of the
Ganges, ye shall obtain
Heaven ” — yadi gangaya
varina mriyedhvam , tada
svargani labedhvam. But
Benares is not only the
city of the sacred Ganges,
it is above all the city of
the Gods.

The sanctity of this
holy place from time im¬
memorial may best be
illustrated by an incident
on which the plot of one
of the Sanskrit plays of
early India is made to turn.

It is the ‘ Curse of the
Wrathful Priest.’ The
story of the drama is worth repeating.
In ancient days a great Hindu king chanced
to anger a mighty priest. To appease the
Rishi’s wrath and ward off the horrors of
his curse—a curse awful in its inevitable

fulfilment—the fear-stricken monarch offers
to give his kingdom and ‘the whole earth’
beside to the angry Brahman. This the
priest deigns at least to consider ; but
instead of graciously returning one-third of
the present, as was cus¬
tomary, or commuting
the donation for a monied
consideration, as happen¬
ed not infrequently when
a Maharaja presented
‘the whole earth,’ the
irate minister of the gods
accepts the gift and adds
a hard condition to boot.

‘ A hundred thousand
gold-pieces ’ must accom¬
pany the gift. Such is
the bond that is nomin¬
ated by the inexorable
Rishi, and one month of
time is allowed for the
payment. The cunning
priest even insists on still
another stipulation : the
earth is now his and no
payment can be made in
gold taken from the earth.
Alas, what is the king to
do ? But a happy thought
suddenly crosses the mon¬
arch’s mind ; sunlight
breaks in on the dark
horizon. Benares is not
of the earth; it is the
city of the gods; he can sell himself
and his wife and his child into bondage
there. This determination he proceeds to
carry out. The fatal curse is removed,
its dread consequences are averted, and

The Snake Charmer.

BENARES, THE SACRED CITY OF THE HINDUS

Page 23

the kingdom itself is ultimately restored to
the much-tried ruler.

It was in March a year ago that I first
reached Benares, ready to start on the
morning after arrival on a trip through the
parched and dusty streets, that had been
blessed by the footsteps of Buddha. Though
March was the month, the tropical sun
was blazing day after day with cruel effect
and the plague was raging at the time.
The flames of the funeral pyres were busy
night as well as day.

In India one must be ready to start
at dawn, for the Hindus get up with the
sun. Almost in a moment the roads were
bristling with workmen, water-carriers,
shop-keepers or messengers, whose brown
legs and bare bronze backs formed all the
more of a contrast with the white loin¬
cloths and snowy turbans. The mud or
stucco houses of the natives often stood
side by side with more pretentious dwell¬
ings. The white chunna of the porch was
sometimes set off by mural decorations in
water-color that formed a curious com¬
bination of East and West. Pictures of
gaily comparisoned elephants, with gods,
tigers, heroes, and a typical Tommy Atkins
seem grouped together in an incongruous
assembly. But rude as some of the paint¬
ings were, they were always full of spirit.

The first visit to pay in the city of gold
was naturally to the Golden Temple. Its
dome with copper plates encrusted with
gold-leaf sheets gleamed brightly. It was
Ranjit Singh, ruler of the Punjab, who
richly endowed the Golden Temple a cen¬
tury ago. Lacs and crores of rupees made
up his princely contribution—enough, in
fact, to cover the entire temple with
burnished gold. But some of the precious
metal, it is thought, clung elsewhere than
to the walls, for only the tower and the
dome are gilded.

The shrine itself is the most famous in
Benares, and it is dedicated to the great

god, Siva. A monstrous statue of a bull,
his sacred animal, rests at the entrance of
the courtyard near the Jyan Kup, or Well
of Knowledge. Around this time-honored
cistern are gathered a most promiscuous
throng of pilgrims, priests, beggars, and
ascetics. Some of these have come long
distances to the holy fountain to sip its
water and wash away their sins. All of
them seem poor. No one of the West
begins to know what poverty and suffering
is until he visits the plague-stricken, famine-
clung India. But the noise of the huge
dinging gongs, the distracting beat of the
tom-tom drums, the nasal voice of the
droning priest soon carry the thoughts
from gold to gifts, from meditation to
baksheesh, and some heavy-scented flowers
are gently thrust into the hand as a re¬
ward for the slight monetary attention
bestowed.

Temple visiting is now the order of the
day. One has not far to go, for their
number is legion. Back of the Golden
Temple is another shrine with vaulted
arches of stone and crowded images here
and there. About its pillared courts roam
a number of sacred bulls and cows. Occu¬
pation they have none, beyond chewing
the cud that is mingled with the flowers
which pilgrims and attendants daily present
to these lazy animals as a pious offering.
This is the fane of Annapurna, Goddess
of Abundance. From her generous door¬
way no beggar is turned away without
a dole of rice or some pittance of grain.
A boon, indeed, this paltry charity is to
the poor wretches who enjoy the hallowed
mite “ which blesses him that gives and
him that takes.”

But the Indian pantheon contains fig¬
ures of wrath, vengeance, and cruelty as
well as beings of kindness and beneficence.
The one sometimes gives place to the
other. The lovely consort of the god
Siva can appear also as an avenging deity.

Dome
of the
Monkey
Temple.

Native

Hindoo

Praying.

Burning

Ghat.

Giving
the Cow
a bath.

Indian

Temple.

Bathing
in the
Ganges.

BEN ARES, THE SACKED CITY OF THE HINDUS

Page 25

It is she who is then known by the name
of Durga. Her temple is close at hand;
a step more brings us to the door. Within
the shrine the horrible form of a female
deity that delights in slaughter is discerned
as a dark image with frightful, bloody,
lolling tongue. We may only peep in at
this sanctum, not enter, for it is regarded as
a profanation to tread with shoes inside the
hollowed precinct. The temple itself is
more often known as the Monkey Temple,
from the troops of monkeys that infest its
shade-trees or scramble about its paved
walks. While we are throwing some
grain to these grimacing beasts one of them
makes a lunge and deliberately punches
the nose of a venturesome goat that had
crowded up to share in the feast. No
pugilist could have been more deft with
his fisticuff. A story also is told of a mon¬
key who ran off with a milkman’s purse
as the latter was piously going through
his devotions. The simian thief ripped
open the wallet and took delight in
throwing one rupee after another into
an adjoining pool. Owing to the ven¬
eration in which the monkeys are held
there remained nothing for the poor milk¬
man to do but grin and bear the loss, and
console himself, as he said, with the
thought that much of the money had
been gained by watering his milk, and the
rupees had gone back to the element
whence largely they had been derived.

In passing along the enclosure where
most of the temples cluster it is necessary
to thread one’s way through mendicants,
beggars, cripples, pilgrims, priests, and
fakirs, and past rows of booths or shops
where little images of the gods are sold.
Here, for example, is a tiny store with its
wares spread out for sale. Over the door,
or rather beside it, is a large representa¬
tion of the monkey god Hanuman who
aided the hero Rama, Prince of India, in
his warfare against the demon king of

Ceylon. This guardian genius, like the
elephant-headed Ganesh, is always aus¬
picious, and serves as a tutelary divinity
who brings luck and wards off misfor¬
tune. But the crowd is great, and past it
we brush to see an ash-besmeared yogi or
ascetic, squatting for penance amid smok¬
ing heaps of burning manure. The chok¬
ing fumes, the blazing sun, the murmured
pra 3 ^ers, make up part of his self-assumed
task of mortifying the flesh. Outside the
entrance is a snake charmer, with his
cobras, adders, and scorpions ; and not
far off are the seats of the money-changers
about the temple. All this scene of Ori¬
ental life and busy stir forms a contrast to
the one of death to which the path
swiftly leads. We are on our way to the
Burning Ghats where for ages the Hindus
have consumed their dead by fire.

Through a narrow street, lined with
shrines, temples, and shops, the way leads
towards the sacred river. Here and there
it is necessary to pick one’s steps. One
of the first sights to attract the eye is a
dead rat festering before the door of a
dwelling, and the rats are said first to
have spread the plague at Bombay. A
moment later a dirgelike cry breaks upon
the ear. It is Ram., Ram, Ram ! in
memory of the saintlike prince of ancient
India. Four bearers are carrying a body
to be burned. So narrow is the street
that it becomes necessary to crowd back
against a temple wall to let the dead pass
by. The body is wrapped in muslin and
the face is covered. The pall itself is
sprinkled with drops perhaps of rose
water, perhaps of the sacred Ganges.
This is the path of the dead ; no guide is
needed except to follow in the hurrying
footsteps of those who were carrying the
corpse to its resting place upon the pyre.

A moment later the great Burning
Ghat on the river bank is reached. The
terrace roof of one of the shrines looks

Page 26

The TRAVELLER

down on the scene below. Thick smoke
rises from several high-heaped piles of
wood that are fiercely burning. Other
heaps are still smoldering or have gone
out, revealing only white ashes over which
the busy attendants pour the blessed water
of the Ganges. Some eighteen bodies
are still counted awaiting their fiery con¬
secration. The hurried ritual, the sprink¬
ling with water and melted butter, and the

moment later we see a couple of Hindus
who are giving their little cow—which
looks more like a goat—its bath in the
venerated stream. Scene succeeds scene
with constant variety and novelty.

But with all the picturesqueness of
Benares and its temple-bordered stream,
with all its pilgrim bands and sacred
associations for the Hindu, with all its
busy shops and tempting sales of rich

The

Monkey

Temple,

Benares.

final preparations follow in rapid succession
and the crackling flames in a moment are
at work. The blazing glare, the scorch¬
ing sun, and the smoke curling slowly
upward, recall to mind the description
of the burning of Shelley’s body on the
shore near Viareggio, or the story in our
early English epic where Beowulf’s body
was given to the flames on the height of
the wind-swept ness.

But now at last there is an opportunity
to take a boat down the river. Temple
after temple rises in succession to the
view. At every ghat , or elevation, whose
steps descend to the water, there are
crowds of people bathing. Here is an
aged priest greeting the early morning sun,
there a Brahman who holds his sacred
cord as he sips the water and recites man¬
tras, or stanzas from the holy texts. A

textile fabrics, and far-famed brassware,
there seemed to me something oppressive
and painful in the evidences of sickness,
poverty, and ignorance. To be sure the
plague was raging at the time ; this no
doubt contributed to the sadness of the
impression. And it was deeply sad. But
much can be done to relieve the condition
of India. One means is to advance educa¬
tion—not education in the higher grades,
but instruction in the simpler rudiments
of knowledge and in hygiene. Lord
Curzon’s views on education, it seems,
must meet with favor in the judgment of
every thoughtful visitor to India; and all
praise is due to those zealous workers,
most often in the missionary field, who are
laboring untiringly and in harmony with
the British Government for the better¬
ment of India, and for the promotion of
the good of this people of Aryan blood
akin to our own and whose traditions are
the oldest of the Indo-Germanic race.

Bullbeggor’s Balance.

T. JENKINS HAINS.

Author of *' Windjammers,” ‘’Mr. Trunnell,”

C APTAIN Bullbeggor was a pious
and conscientious man. He was
also good. That is, he was “good ac¬
cording to his lights,” as a seafaring friend
put it, the lights shining in an entirely
different degree of radiance from those
commonly used by land lubbers as standard.
He was descended from a long line of
Bullbeggors, dating back to several of
Revolutionary fame, and he had some of
the main characteristics of that sturdy
race. H e was tall, gaunt, with rugged
and rough features that were seamed and
burned by long exposure to the sun of
every zone. He was a sailor of the old
school and his legs slightly bowed, though
hard as iron, told of many years balancing
upon the deck planks of a heaving ship.
He had retired from the sea after the loss
of the largest vessel he had ever taken out,
and although there had been many un¬
pleasant remarks regarding insurance and
such trivial things, he had kept his hard
lined mouth shut and had gone his way
in dignified silence.

He was married and had two very
charming daughters just grown, and both
they and their mother were ornaments to
the summer hotel their lord kept for guests
on the North shore. Bullbeggor catered
to the fashionable set and to stay at the
“ Dew-Drop Inn ” for a month or more
during the heated term was considered
the proper thing. His morals were the
sternest and his profound and pious medi¬
tations were such as to stamp his house as
the correct place for mothers who consid¬
ered an atmosphere of sanctity before con¬
sidering their bank account when choos¬
ing a home for their daughters. Bull¬
beggor came high, as the saying went in

Wreck of Covemaugh,” “ Cruise of Petrel,” Etc., Etc.

the village, but the “ Dew-Drop Inn” was
the proper place to go.

Mrs. Captain Bullbeggor kept much in
the background during the season of fes¬
tivities, but her presence was felt. She
had been the head of a school when the
Captain linked his fortune with her, and
she posed as a lady of highest literary tastes
and inclinations. A presence that is felt
is generally strong.

Bullbeggor had steered a straight and
true course for many years now, and his
early life spent in the South Pacific had
become as a dream. His wife’s first at¬
tempt to get him to relate some of it soon
ended in her begging him to remain silent.
Literature, she thought, could not possibly
be advanced by further reference to it,
and as he had begun most unwillingly he
was not in the least loath to keep quiet.
After this they immediately separated for
many years, and only when the Petrel
took fire and burned in the Southern
Ocean did the partner of his early days
rejoin him. Captain Bullbeggor, after a
short period of seclusion spent in serious
thought over his wonderful escape from
his burning ship, in which a valuable
cargo, heavily insured, went down, sud¬
denly became owner and proprietor of the
largest hotel in the State.

Everything went smoothly until Airs.
Bullbeggor was suddenly taken sick and
her life despaired of by the doctor. Her
two daughters, Susan and Annie, nursed
her night and day, but to no purpose.
She was fast failing, and Bullbeggor was
made aware of this fact.

He ceased his lamentations, which were
of a most dignified nature, and came to
her bedside. Then she signified that they

Page 28

The TRAVELLER

should be left alone, which they were by
all save the four walls. These, as tradi¬
tion has frequently averred, have ears.

“The game’s up, Sue, hey?” said the
skipper.

“ And the property will go back to your
name,” answered his wife, “ and then
you’ll lose the whole of it.”

SUSAN.

“ The whole of it, hey ? I see, the
whole of it. They’ll soak me for that
insurance, hey ? An’ that money in the
house ?” mused Bullbeggor.

“I don’t know what you’ve got besides ?”

“ On some matters silence is golden,”
said the skipper; “ just how much or how
little I have is of no consequence to you,
hey?”

“ Except for the children.”

“ I see, the children. Well, I’ll fix
them all right. Never mind about the
gals. I reckon a man that’s dealt with—
—with—them that I have can look out
for a couple of poor little gals.”

“You promise ?”

“ I do that,” said the skipper.

“ Then I can go in peace.”

“You can go serenely, Sue ; you know
me.”

And three days later she died.

Very shortly after a polite stranger
stopped at the hotel and Bullbeggor called
his two daughters to his room for consul¬
tation. “ You’ve both been good gals,”
said he, “ and I’ll leave you my fortune
when I die, but at present I’m going
crazy.”

Susan, a tall blonde, with the strongly
marked features of her father, expressed
some surprise. Annie, the gentle little
brown haired maiden, screamed and was
about to faint. “ Don’t be foolish,”
growled Bullbeggor; “grief is a thing
anyone—even the courts—is bound to
respect. Whoever heard of sueing a
lunatic, hey ? It can’t be done. When
I’m violent put me in a private asylum and
don’t be parsimonious. Your old man
will see you both through when the
money’s gone—I mean when I recover.”

“ We will take good care of you, papa,”
said Susan.

“ If that lawyer fellow asks for me, tell
him I’m at church, hey ?”

In the pretty little church in the village
the inhabitants and hotel guests were as¬
sembled at prayer. A quiet fell upon the
congregation as the clergyman knelt and
raised his voice in a low monotone.

“ Oh Heavenly Father—”

A deep roar filled the edifice, followed
by a series of startling cries. All eyes
were turned at once to the pew where sat
Bullbeggor.

“Cast loose! Let ’er slide!” he
bawled. “ Soo-o-aye! Whang!” and
he followed with a torrent of strange
sounds.

The congregation looked on in amaze¬
ment. No one moved. “Fire! Fire!”
he roared, and banged heavily upon the
pew-back. Then four stout men, who
noted a strange glare in the Captain’s eye,

BULLBEGGOR’S BALANCE

Page 29

rich owner of the Dew-Drop Inn had
been suddenly struck down by grief
and suffering at the death of his wife,
and as the congregation went to their
homes they were surrounded by knots of
villagers and asked for details of the
terrible affair.

Bullbeggor was put carefully away in a
private sanitarium. His physician declared
he must not be crossed in his desires, as he
instantly became violent, and he was per¬
mitted to indulge himself freely in liberal
potations of good rum and water, while

business end of the hotel
and mortgaged it for its full
value to pay her father’s
enormous bills. She trusted
him implicitly, for he had
said he would see her
through. He would keep his word, crazy
or not.

It might be supposed that two hand¬
some young women with features telling
strongly of their parentage, should be the
object of Cupid’s attack. The iron-hard
face of Susan could glow with pride and
satisfaction under the fickle god’s assaults,
but while Bullbeggor was above ground,
strange to say, in spite of her unprotected
condition, no semblance of even a flank
movement had been contemplated by the
boy with the bow. However, it argued

sprang upon him and led him forcibly from
the church. It was all so sudden. The
dignified Captain had lost his bearings and
was now a violent lunatic.

The minister found time to deliver a
telling peroration upon the uncertainty of
human affairs ; everyone of the little
audience were saddened and subdued by
the strange turn affairs had taken. It
was the talk of the village how the

lawyers wrangled and toiled to no purpose.
A lunatic he was and there was no help
for it. No court could decide against him,
and so for three long and happy years the
skipper passed his time in profound seclu¬
sion and deep drinking. His fortune was
exaggerated and expanded by the attorneys
until he was known as the “ millionaire
lunatic ” in the village of Bay.

His daughter, Susan, conducted the

Page 30

The TRAVELLER

very poor taste on his part, for the young
woman was everything that she should be,
considering who she was, and, naturally,
as the years went by the lines about her
mouth grew deeper and gave her face a
sterner mold. Her figure was superb and
she carried herself like an uncrowned
queen as she went her lonely way through

the village or along her broad piazza on
the front of the Dew-Drop Inn.

Annie was even more alone than her
older sister. She had looked with gentle
eyes upon several young men who had
chanced to stop at the hotel during the
summer, but they soon found urgent busi¬
ness elsewhere after the first acquaint¬
anceship had passed. How any young
man could fail to love Annie, her sister
could not understand, for she was every¬
thing that was lovable. Man after man
came and went, all showing great interest
in the two lonely young women. Still,
at the end of three years the town had
become less fashionable and the girls were
yet there.

One warm evening in August their
father strode into the large hall and

greeted his daughters affectionately.
There were several people of prominence
staying at the hotel at that time, and
among them was the president of a large
insurance concern. But Bullbeggor greeted
all with the same dignified and quiet man¬
ner which had always distinguished him
heretofore. His face was bloated and red,
but he had otherwise apparently not
changed in the least. The lawsuits had
long ago been dropped as hopeless, for as
a lunatic nothing in the way of a judg¬
ment could be found against him. There
was nothing in his outward appearance,
however, that would distinguish him now
from the very same man he had always
been thought to be. He went to the
room of his daughters and sat himself
comfortably in a chair and proceeded to
load and light a meerschaum pipe which
he apparently was much occupied in
coloring.

“Ye see, Sue, I didn’t get the money
this month, so I had to come on about it.
I am about tired o’ being a crazy fool,
anyway. Can’t you gals scrape up some
little cash for the old man ?—ready money
is close!” said he, after a preliminary con¬
versation in which his astonishment at
finding the girls unmarried was the im¬
portant point.

“ Why, papa, haven’t you any quantity
of money ?” asked Miss Susan in surprise.

“We thought you had millions!” ex¬
claimed Annie.

“ I’ve mortgaged this hotel for its full
value and don’t think I can raise any
more. How much do you want ?” asked
Susan.

“ How much do I want, hey ? Well, I
don’t know, my gal. Ye see, I’m an in¬
valid and had a stroke last summer. The
saw-bones says it’s from heavy drinking,
but, Lord save ye, baby, I don’t drink
nothing heavier’n rum and water. I don’t
care for them fizzy things and wines.

BULLBEGGOR’S BALANCE

Page 31

They’re sure heavy drinking, for a man
might drink a gallon and not feel the touch
of it. No, no, I just want a couple of
dollars for rum.”

“ A couple of dollars 1” cried the two
girls in a breath.

“ I don’t see anything strange wanting
a couple o’ dollars, hey ?” said Bullbeggor.

“ Good heavens ! to think of you want¬
ing a couple of dollars,” cried Susan, fall¬
ing back in her chair.

“ Yes, we thought you meant thou¬
sands,” said Annie.

“ I never said any such thing,” growled
Bullbeggor.

“ Why, of course I can give you a couple
of dollars,” said the older, and she drew
out her pocketbook and handed him a ten
dollar note. “ But where is your fortune,
papa ?”

“In owning two such beautiful jewels as
my dear gals,” said Bullbeggor, with dignity.

But is that all?” asked Annie.

“ Nothing is so rude, my child, as to
ask a person questions regarding his in¬
come. I hope your dear ma brought you
up never to do such a thing.”

Susan looked limp. Even her strong
mind showed signs of weakening under
these revelations, for it now seemed that
her father had nothing. The old skipper
saw the pitiful look in the face of his child
and rose to go. He was very thirsty and
dinner was nearly ready.

“ Don’t worry about me,” said he
kindly, as he placed a hand on her head,
while Annie, who had now burst into
tears, sat and rocked herself in despair.

“ Don’t worry for your old daddy. He’s
all right.” And then he kissed her lightly
upon the forehead and went for his rum.

A little later he was seated at a table in
front of his bar and was drinking happily,
smoking his pipe and bowing gravely to
those who stopped and told him how glad
they were to see him again. Among some

newcomers who called for drinks was the
President of the insurance concern that
was much interested in the skipper. He
went over to the old sailor and looked
down upon him.

“ I thought you were in safe keeping,”
said he; “aren’t you still crazy?” His
tone was cutting.

“ By the grace of our Lord I have re¬
covered,” said Bullbeggor, quietly, and
with somber dignity.

“ I see, and come back to spend your
money, you old shark,” said the insurance
man, with some heat.

“ And to teach you better manners,”
said the skipper, gravely, rising and hurling
his liquor into the other’s face.

In a moment they had clinched and
were fighting all over the room. The in¬
surance man was strong, but the iron
muscles of the sailor soon had him under
control and by the time they were sepa¬
rated the old Captain had administered a
sound beating.

But this was too much for a brain
steeped in alcohol. The skipper had no
sooner got to his feet then he reeled and
fell headlong to the floor stone dead. The
second stroke had come.

It would be supposed that such a com¬
monplace and vulgar affair would have
worked the ruin of the Dew-Drop Inn.
But this was not the case. Everyone
heard of the lunatic’s return, and appear¬
ed to think that his death was a matter
to be expected, and that it was of course
a great blessing to the two girls. Susan
stuck to her post and received the sym¬
pathetic condolence of all the women and
many of the men of her acquaintance. It
was as if something new had happened in
her life. Annie cried and sought seclu¬
sion but Susan went back to her task
bravely, looking splendid in her black
gown. Within a month no less than
twenty young men of various ages had

Page 32

The TRAVELLER

called and offered everything in the way of
visible sympathy, from bunches of flowers
to soft-worded notes, and the maiden was
experiencing a new life. Even Annie was
sought out, and the demand for her was
so promising that she could no longer re¬
main in seclusion. At the end of three
months not less than five impecunious
young sparks laid bare their hearts and
offered eternal affection for her hand.

The two lonely daughters of “the mil¬
lionaire ” were sought out everywhere.
Susan had a tender heart under her hand¬
some gown and in spite of her rugged fea¬
tures, she was of a most affectionate nat-
ture. She saw much of a certain young
lawyer said to have great expectations,
and the secret longing of her natural goal
now began to take visible form. Cecil
Williams was a handsome man, and he
was evidently on the ladder to rise. At
the end of the season their engagement
was announced for an early marriage.

Annie would probably have had five
husbands had it not been for her sister.
Susan pointed out the man of her choice
and as a dutiful young sister she most un¬
willingly refused four professional men and
accepted a business man of means.

“ I wonder what papa left us ? ” said
she one day after everything matrimonially
had been arranged satisfactorily. “There
must really be some large amount, don’t
you think after all ? ”

“ We will find out before long,” said
Susan, “ for I’ve spent the last money I
could raise on the house for you trousseau.
We’ll have a grand double wedding, An¬
nie dear, and then after everything is all
right the lawyers will find out how much
is due. Cecil knows everything about
those affairs and he will tell us.”

Before the inn closed the wedding of
the heiresses was announced. It was a
grand double affair, and the two brides
were charming in new gowns. Susan’s

rugged face wore a happy and serene smile
as she stood before the minister with the
man of her choice. Annie followed, and
many were the congratulations showered
upon the fortunate men who had wooed
and won the charming heiresses. Four
disappointed young fellows drank deeply at
the thought of living without Annie and
with poverty. Several more pondered
deeply upon the blessings of a rugged face
when backed by a steadfastness of purpose
and a generous bank account.

Mr. and Mrs. Cecil Williams drove
away amid a shower of rice and old slip¬
pers, and for once Susan’s strong face was
wet with tears of pure happiness.

“We will travel for a year, Sue, dear¬
est,” said Cecil, as they drove to the sta¬
tion, “ and then will come back and sell
the Dew-Drop Inn and live in town. The
city is the place after all.”

“ I really don’t think it will be worth
while coming back for that, dear,” said
his wife ; “you know it is already mort¬
gaged for more than its worth.”

“ Hump !” said Cecil. “No, I didn’t
know that.” And he gazed abstractedly
out of the window.

“ You won’t think me curious, Sue,”
said he, “ if I ask you just where the bulk
of your fortune is ? ” And he passed his
arm around her well shaped waist and drew
her to him until her head rested on his
shoulder. They were drawing near the
depot and the train was roaring through
the cut half a mile distant. They would
just have time to catch it, but Susan
showed no anxiety. She looked up con¬
fidingly and her strong face took an ex¬
pression of great faith and trust while she
answered—

“ I really don’t know, Cecil, and it is
because you are such a good lawyer and
understand all about those things that I
have waited until I was married to you, so
you could find out for me.”

From an original Stereograph.

THE MOUNT OF THE HOLY CROSS,
COLORADO.

BY ROBERT MACKAY,

Associate Editor of “Success.”

Changeless as Horeb’s ever-during rock,

Since Moses smote the water from its side ;
Unaltered by the lashing of the tide
Of years, whose surges thy foundations mock ;
Silent, serene, ringed round with massive towers,
Thou dost defy time, tempest, and the sun,
Gleaming symbolic of the Holy One,

Who sacrificed His life to ransom ours.

Cross of the driven snow, the western winds,

Whispering among the boughs that woo them rest,
Touch some twin chord that vibrates in my breast,
And waken in my heart a hope that finds
Its purpose, stimulated by each breath,

That thou wilt be my crucifix in death !

Darjeeling—Under the Towering Himalayas.

BY JAMES

Curios

OU will find
few places
in the
world
which
offer such
marvellous
display of
pictur¬
esque
mountain
masses as
does nor¬
thern India.
Here Darjeeling is
J situated at an elevation of seven
thousand feet above the sea, and broken
into the most stupendous formations of
valleys, crests and spurs,—valleys three
thousand feet below one’s point of view,
and crests rising three to four thousand
feet above; and all these heights and
depths torn into all conceivable slopes and
spurs by the dynamics of mountain streams.
This condition extends in every direction
for twenty to forty miles ; and this wide
panorama of infinite height and depth,
spur, gorge and ravine, is covered with
semitropical foliage. The background
towards the north is the sovereign range
of the world, the Himalayas. The cen¬
tre of the view northwards is the viceroy
of the Himalayan range, the mighty Kun-
chinjinga,—

“ Whose head in wintry grandeur towers,
And whitens with eternal sleet;
While summer in a vale of flowers
Is sleeping rosy at his feet.”

RICALTON.

By a morning walk to Senchal or Tiger
Hill, two thousand six hundred feet above
Darjeeling, we can see glistening white in
his royal mantle, the king of the range
and of the world, with his supreme altitude
twenty-nine thousand and two feet. Yet
at the distance of one hundred and twenty
miles his supremacy is not manifest; to
the beholder at Senchal, Kunchinjinga
at forty miles appears much higher and
grander than Everest at one hundred and
twenty miles. These two mountain giants
are not alone; there is a whole world of
peaks ; but these two tower from twelve to
fourteen thousand feet higher than Mt.
Blanc, the highest peak in Europe. From
Senchal fifteen peaks may be counted in
the snowy line higher than Mt. Blanc,
and eleven over twenty thousand feet.
With this indescribable prospect of mount¬
ains clad in foliage for a foreground and
the above mentioned background of snowy
peaks, the reader may test his imagination
on Darjeeling panoramas.

The town of Darjeeling is most pictur¬
esquely situated on many crests and slopes,
and a partial idea of both may be obtained
from the illustration.* Next in interest to
the unsurpassed scenery and the “ snows,”
as everyone locally terms the snowy range,
are the several hill tribes that swarm on
the streets and fill the markets on market
day. Some of the more common and
interesting are given in the accompanying
illustrations.

Southern Thibet is called Bhot, and all
those people coming from that region and
from the neighboring region of Bhutan
are called Bhutias; but sometimes a dis¬
tinction is made and those who come

^Frontispiece.

Bhutia Porter Girls
Carrying Luggage.

Page 36

The TRAVELLER

direct from Bhutan are called Bhutanese;
but the adjacent tribes are so numerous
and so slightly differentiated that distinc¬
tions are difficult. Where all the mountain
tribes are dirty, the Bhutanese may be
placed in the ascendancy. Physically they
are vigorous and active and given to
robbery and theft. The Bhutanese war in
1864 was made necessary by their thieving
incursions into adjacent territory. They
are notoriously immoral; polygamy is com¬
mon and one woman frequently becomes
the common wife of a family of brothers.
Their fanatical ignorance has made their
country almost a forbidden land. The
women are often loaded with jewelry—
gold and silver armlets set with torquoise
and attached to chains about their necks ;
glass and silver bracelets galore, also ear
rings, toe rings, and nose rings. Men
often carry a knife in the girdle, and the
more religious of both sexes carry rosaries
and the salvatory “ Mani,” i. e., the hand
praying machine. This they cause to re¬
volve from left to right, which, at every
revolution, is supposed to repeat a written
prayer within. Many of them carry these
little hand prayer-mills about the street,
twirling the mill as they repeat the stereo¬
typed prayer: “Om Mani Padmi Om”
(Oh the Jewel in the Lotus !). Their
religion is a degraded Buddhism, and their
houses, villages, temples, and tombs can be
identified by the great number of bits of
fluttering rags containing written prayers
and attached to poles and branches of
trees. Men and women both wear the
hair in one or two long braids or pigtails,
somewhat after the fashion of the Chinese.
The complexion and the Mongolian eyes
clearly show an approach towards China.
They are not, however, sullen and stolid
like the Chinaman; they are a good-
natured race, full of laughter and merry¬
making. The men wear a peculiarly shaped
felt hat; the women never wear head

cover. In Bhutan the head of the religious
order is styled the Dharma-Raj and the
Great Lamas at Lhassa is believed to be
an incarnation of Buddha. The Bhutan¬
ese have no caste and are omniverous
livers even to the eating of animals that
have died of disease. The Bhutanese are
the most numerous native race in and
about Darjeeling and may be seen in all
kinds of emplojunent. The streets are
alive with Bhutia porters—men, women,
and children. Many hawk Thibetan
curios about the hotels and thoroughfares,
and in trade they are superb liars.

The second mountain tribe is so well
described in Bomwetsch’s excellent book¬
let, “Before the Glory of the Snows,”
that I give it verbatim: “The original
inhabitants of the whole of Sikkim (in¬
cluding the divisions of Darjeeling) were
the Lepchas, a simple people living in the
midst of the wild and magnificent forests.
Each family lived by itself, having no
villages or communities, cultivating the
ground around their huts or caves, after
clearing a portion of the forest. They
worshipped one Good Spirit and made
offerings to many evil spirits to prevent
them from doing harm. They had a rich,
poetic language of one syllable, called
after them, the Lepcha Language, and
supposed to be one of the most ancient in
the world. General Mainwaring, in his
Lepcha Grammar, says: “The myth¬
ology is romantic in the extreme and full
of interest; it has its abode in dreamland
and teems with spirits, good and evil, with
fays and fairies.” But after the death of
the Lepcha King Torayek, at the end of
the fifteenth century, the Thibetans in¬
vaded Sikkim, usurped the throne and
introduced their own religion—Buddhism.
The Buddhist priests, called Lamas, des-
stroyed all the Lepcha manuscripts they
could find. From that time by degrees
the Lepcha people and language began to

DARJEELING

Page 37

change. Later on the Bhutanese made
inroads and settled in Sikkim. With these
and the Thibetans, as well as with some
of the Buddhist races from Nepaul, the
Lepchas freely intermarried, so that at
the present day the term Lepcha includes
any permanent settlers of Sikkim. The
descendants of the real Lepchas are, how¬
ever, easily distinguished from other races
by their dress, though in language, religion
and customs they now resemble the Thib¬
etans and Bhutanese. They seem to be
shorter and a little fairer than other hill-
men. Men and women dress almost alike,
and as the men have no hair about the
face, the only way to distinguish the sexes
is by looking at their heads—the men have
one pigtail and the women two. Their
strongly developed limbs are always exposed;
up to the knee they wind themselves in a
thick cotton cloth with red and blue
stripes. In the winter they wear a loose¬
sleeved upper garment. The women, who
can afford it, adorn themselves with
Thibetan ornaments, and the men carry
in their girdles the straight, long knife,
called the Ban, which is used as a weapon
of defence, as well as a table knife, ax and
plough; it has a wooden sheath, one side
of which is open, the blade being kept in
position by some cross bands of tin. A
small mat made of leaves and bamboo
called “ goom ” serves them for an um¬
brella in the rain and a bed at night.
The only musical instrument is a rude
bamboo flute.”

Another type of people seen in and
about Darjeeling are the Nepalese, from a
region lying northwest. Many of this
tribe have settled in the small district lying
between Nepaul and Bhutan called Sikkim.
Large numbers of them may be seen on
the tea plantations; others have chosen to
make their permanent homes in Darjeeling,
where they are preferred as bearers, sirdars,
cooks and table servants. They are smaller

than the Bhutias and like to identify them¬
selves with the Gurkhas, many having
joined the Gurkha regiments. The
Nepalese are Hindus, although having
been long in contact with Buddhism,
their Hinduism has in some measure been
modified by the Buddhistic religion. They
observe caste and only eat the flesh of the
goat. They only marry within their caste,
and practice polygamy, but do not secrete
their wives as do their co-religionists in the
plains. They indulge in jewelry of silver
and gold, wearing enormous strings of
coins about their necks. These heavy
necklaces of current coins indicate their
social and financial standing. A grimy
little oblong basket swung across the back,
apparently full of old rags, will always be
found to contain a tiny Nepalese “kid.”
The Bhutanese carry their babes in the
same fashion. A covering for the head,
often bright and showy, distinguishes them
from other feminine mountaineers. They
are quite unlike the other tribes in physique,
being light and lithesome, with better coun¬
tenances, and readily adapting themselves
to all occupations. They are brave like
the Gurkhas with whom they like to be
identified. Their weapon is the vicious
curved knife called the Kookri, which
they handle with exceeding skill. The
Nepalese constitute one-half of the popula¬
tion of the Darjeeling district ; they are an
energetic and industrious people, and being
always armed with the formidable Kookri,
it is not wise to cuff them about as is
often done with the other Indian races.

This old centenarian* is a local celebrity.
She lives five miles from Darjeeling at the
village of Ghoom. She is called the
“Witch of Ghoom,” I suppose, because
of her antiquity rather than owing to any
tendency to bewitch anybody; from her
tenacity of life more than from any black
art in her possession. Her picture is
already in several books, and in the win-

*See illustration on Page 40.

(lows of the
photograph¬
ers, and for
sale by the
photo deal¬
ers. I chat¬
ted with this “Old
Maid” of the Hima¬
layas for some time.
Her faculties are well
preserved; she told
me she was one hun¬
dred and two years
old, but the people in
Darjeeling say she is
much older, and that
they knew her ten
years ago, and that
to-day she appears no older
than she did then. So very
probably when she told me

A Milkman.

A Bhutia
Family.

DARJEELING

Page 39

she was only one hundred and two, she was
true to her sex the world over—hiding her
years. If, however, she was true to her
sex instincts in the matter of age, she was
not quite so in the matter of teeth ; when
asked if she had good teeth, with her
finger she pressed down her lower lip and
disclosed a solitary stump of an ancient
tusk and smiled, showing no desire to
hide her toothlessness. I think her face is
beautiful, and to name her “Witch” is
a stupid slander. Her manner is kindly
and her face is great-grand-motherly in the
extreme;—it is a venerable volume of
Himalayan lore, reminiscence, legend, and
experience; it tells of a century in hum¬
ble poverty on a small daily allowance
of rice, and still her mind is clear and her
heart is cheery; she sits for her picture,
receives her tribute of bakshish and
salaams her thanks. Poor old Bhutia
woman !

Darjeeling is supplied with milk largely
by hill-men* who come daily from the
mountains, carrying their supply on the
backs of ponies and in bamboo buckets.
Second-class milkmen bring in their stock
on their own backs, sometimes carrying
six and eight buckets, each holding about
two gallons. Sections of bamboo are
sometimes strengthened with bands of
iron ; instead of iron, bands of a braid
made from the fibre of the same tree are
used. Now the native tinsmiths are mak¬
ing tin cans from the universal five gallon
kerosene oil can, which in recent years
has become the tin supply for the Orient.
In the illustration one can on the back of
the milkman is of tin, patterned after the
bamboo ; those on the back of the pony
are all of bamboo. The milk is from
a hardy native breed of cows; there is,
however, often an admixture of goat’s milk,
to say nothing of the milkman’s familiarity
with the location of mountain springs. A
disastrous rival to these native milkmen

*Page 38.

has in the last few years appeared : at
Senchal, eight thousand feet above the
sea, an extensive dairy has been established
under European management, whereat a
hundred cows are kept and an excellent
butter is made, and milk of a better quality
is sent in bottles to all in Darjeeling who
can afford to pay a little more for a better
quality.

Since the railway was constructed to
Darjeeling it is frequently visited by travel¬
lers, and this has created a demand for
curios; the demand soon exhausted the
supply, and now the natives are at work in
their villages manufacturing curios which
they sell for genuine articles. They were
not slow to learn that old articles are
sought after, and they are learning the
art, long practiced in other parts of the
world, of making new things old—cheat¬
ing Time of his slow processes. Imita¬
tion brassware, imitation swords, knives,
and brand new praying machines are
offered for sale to the European ; not well
understanding the western fancy for curios,
they probably imagine he admires the
advantages of machine prayers and wishes
to adopt them in the west. Tom-toms,
made of Lamas’ skulls, are in vogue in
Thibet and are here for sale in the streets.
Rosaries, made of small discs from Lamas’
skulls, are also in high favour. Trumpets
made from human femurs are hawked
about in Darjeeling; these things are real,
however, only the metal work curios are
made in imitation of the antique. The
old curio dealer, in the initial picture of this
article, is a well known local character, and
his picture also appears in several books on
the Himalayan region. He is usually well
loaded with murwa, a native liquor made
from a grain resembling millet. He is
talkative and good-natured ; one day he is
on the street with a pair of horns, the
next he may appear with a bundle of yak
tails; and again with a skull tom-tom or

Page 40

The TRAVELLER

with his girdle filled with Kookries. He is
a Thibetan, and happy if he can secure
sufficient bakshish, day by day, to procure
the requisite supply of viurwa. All prices
for curios in Darjeeling have become quite
unreasonable, and it is said this is chiefly
owing to American travelers who encour¬
age it by an unwise and
indiscriminate generosity.

When the traveller ar¬
rives in New York, at the
stations or at the ferries,
his ear is shocked by such
hidious orthoepy as:

“Kee-ab?” “Kee-ab ?”

“ Kee-ab ? ” for cab.

On reaching Dar¬
jeeling the cry is—

“ Coolie, Sahib ? ”

“Munkta
Coolie ? ”

(“Coolie,

Sir?” “Co¬
olie, Sir?”

“Have a
Coo lie?”)

There is a
swarm of
coolies of
both sexes
and of all
ages, but a
m a j o r i t y
seems to be
girls with
baskets at their backs in which to carry
luggage or packages.* They carry enor¬
mous loads, and use a braided band of
bamboo placed around the trunk or box
and over the head. Such burdens are
borne often several miles and up steep
mountains for a two anna piece (4 cents.)
Of course for smaller packages the basket
is used. Nothing is ever broken or
damaged when carried in this fashion.

Mr. “Kee-ab”-man wants a dollar to carry
you a couple of miles (sometimes only
fifty cents), and the thundering express

service will require another fifty cents

to deliver your trunk. In this part of the
world a “Dandy” (Palankeen), or a rick¬
shaw, carries you to your home for ten
cents, and Miss Coolie
delivers your trunk for
four. Two of these

Bhutia porter girls have
been carrying my photo
outfit for days together.
They make excellent
porters ; strong, uncom¬
plaining and willing.
They have lost their
first timidity and
now venture to sal-
lute me in the
style of their
country,
which is to
stick out the
tongue when
first meeting.
(Of course all
girls stick out
the tongue
somet i m e s.)
The true way
is to project
the tongue
slightly, and at
the same time
to press for¬
ward the left ear with the open palm of
the left hand. I am not sure but I have
been saluted by a projecting tongue in my
own country; but there it had a different
significance, and then the hands about the
ears were in different relations. There are
so many different types about Darjeeling,
with their strange customs, I could never
tell about them all, short of a book, and
there are books enough, and too many.

The Witch of Ghoom.

*See Page 35.

The Snow Festival at Rome.

u. c.

URIEL was a beautiful and vivacious
American girl, who, in company
with her father, had gone abroad to study
art, and who was stopping in Rome for a
few months. Summer-time in Rome is
apt to be oppressive, but this particular
day, the fifth of August, was even hotter
than August days are wont to be in the
Eternal City. Muriel’s father was away
on a brief visit to Naples, and, left to
herself, life was beginning to be monoto¬
nous to the girl. To-day, however, was
to be a red letter day, for the little monk,
Antonio, brother of Signorina Ferretti,
with whom she lived, had promised to
show her some new and interesting sights.

Throwing up her window and gazing
down on the street below, the Via Meru-
lania, the girl noted a steady stream of
people going in the direction of Santa
Maria Maggiore, which ranks third among
the great churches of the city, and is the
largest and finest of the eighty churches in
Rome dedicated to the Virgin. Cabmen
in the neighboring square of St. John the
Lateran were doing a thriving business—
the unsuspecting foreigners little realizing
that the distance was but a few squares
away, thereby proving that not alone in
America does the circuitous route lead to
big fares !

As when the circus parade passes
through a town it is hard to resist the
temptation to follow it to the bitter end,
so it was that on this hot August day,
notwithstanding the fatigue attending
every effort, Muriel wished that she, too,
were among the cosmopolitan crowd that
jostled past her window. Her interest
grew apace with the steadily increasing
stream of humanity—Americans, active
and alert to everything—Italian nobility

LUND.

reclining languidly in their carriages—
peasants gayly gowned as if for a great
festival, and last, but not least, the monks—
brown-hooded Franciscans, white-robed
Trappists, black-garbed Passionists—all
made a picturesque sight which seemed to
divert our young friend, who, if the truth
were told, was beginning to find Rome
slightly uninteresting—for entre nous,
home-sickness will make any place dis¬
tasteful for the time being.

“ The signorina seems to be amused,”
said a soft voice at her side, and thus
Antonio announced himself. If the sig¬
norina and her friend would hasten he
would see that they procured good places
at Santa Maria Maggiore. Time forbade
any questioning, so quickly throwing the
lace scarf over her head, Muriel and her
companions were soon wending their way
toward the square made prominent by the
huge obelisk which guards the entrance to
the church. The church or basilica
stands upon a slight eminence—the north¬
ern spur of the Esquiline Hill—where Ser-
vius Tullius had a palace—and is at once
simple and sublime. It is, in some re¬
spects, the most beautiful and harmonious
religious edifice in Rome.

Upon their arrival, some minutes later,
a most picturesque scene presented itself—
the broad stone steps that led up to the
structure were one solid mass of humanity—
shouting, laughing, jostling, anything but
what should have been in evidence at
such a place—but it was a festival, and
that is always sufficient for the Roman.

After considerable elbowing through
the crowd, Antonio and Muriel finally
reached the interior of the structure
which was fast filling up with people of
all classes and conditions. About them

4 1

Page 42

The TRAVELLER

was the great nave of the church, which
is two hundred and eighty feet long and
sixty broad, supported by two rows of
white Ionic columns, as chaste and simple
as those of a Greek temple. In front of
them stretched away the rich, yet subdued
mosaic pavement, softened by the white
and gold of the ceiling and the walls and
“ the general effect viewed from the great
entrance was entrancingly beautiful.” In
observing the company about her, Muriel
was impressed by the utter and universal
disregard for the fitness of things—every¬
one present seeming intent upon seeing
everything and everybody, and many
groups were holding animated conversa¬
tions in the different parts of the large
building.

Our friends found a very good place over
by one of the gigantic white pillars of
which we have spoken. They were very
near to the main altar and Muriel could
scarcely suppress an exclamation of de¬
light as she gazed at the beautiful sight
before her. Everything on or about the
altar was of the purest white. Electric
lights emitted their sparkling splendor from
the inside of beautiful lilies, while dainty
little marble cherubs seemed to float
around everywhere. The dazzle and
splendor of it all was almost too much for
the young girl, and she turned away her
eyes lest she should become bewildered by
the ineffable glory.

At this instant the many voiced bells in
the dome began to peal forth their noon¬
day song. Then four trumpeters, sta¬
tioned away up in the top of the church,
burst forth into glad tones of praise. As
their clear bell-like tones penetrated the
interior of the vast structure, one could
almost picture the angelic choirs sending
down the tidings of peace on earth, good
will to men.

Everyone was silent—for even the most
frivolous are awed by such a spectacle—

and all waited in breathless suspense for the
next event.

As the bells and trumpets ceased their
joyous heraldings, the Sistine choir took
up the refrain, the great doors at the side
were thrown open, and a vast multitude
of clergy, resplendent in their magnificent
robes, entered the church. After march¬
ing around the edifice, whose walls re¬
verberated with the dulcet tones of the
wonderful—I had almost said the celes¬
tial—choir, the procession halted just out¬
side the altar railing. The celebrant, in
a rich voice, started the “ Veni Creator,”
and in a short time the refrain was taken
up by choir, monks and laymen.

When the grand chorus was finished
everything became dark, all was silence,
and the stillness was most oppressive.
Suddenly the trumpets again sent forth
their clear ringing tones—the bells too
joined in the exultation—the choir started
the “ Kyria Eleison,” the priests took
their respective places, and mass had
begun.

Still all was dark, but as the celebrant
intoned the “ gloria in excelsis deo,” the
lights came up as suddenly as they went
out—and lo,—coming as it were from the
heavens above on this hot summer’s day—
were snow-like particles of peerless white¬
ness, few at first, then gradually more and
more, until it seemed that the whole
chancel was snowed under by a typical
northern blizzard. After the first spectacu¬
lar flurry was over, the downpour became
more even, and the priests continued the
ceremony as it were in a snow storm. This
beautiful effect is produced by showers of
white rose petals which are thrown down
through openings in the ceiling of the
church, “ like a leafly mist between the
priests and the worshippers.” It was a
most fascinating sight, and Muriel, who
had been speechless with the novelty and
beauty of the scene, now found time to

A GLIMPSE AT BRITISH GUIANA

Page 43

ask the meaning of such a spectacle.

“ Many years ago,” said Antonio, “ the
Virgin appeared to a very pious old Roman
couple, and told them she wished them to
build a church in her honor. She said
they should go out the next morning,
drive through Rome, and, although it was
summer, they would find one large area
covered with snow. There it was they
should build the church. They did as
directed, found the place covered with
snow, and gave to the world Santa Maria
Maggiore. Each year the circumstance is
commemorated by the feast of La Ma¬
donna Della Neve, the beautiful festival
of the snow.” Muriel was delighted with
the story, for she had come to know that

to thoroughly enjoy Rome, one must be¬
lieve its legends.

Soon all was over, the choir ceased
singing, the bells were silent, the trumpets
blew no more. Slowly the clergy filed
from the chancel, the great doors were
thrown open, and as the daylight once
more streamed into the church, the crowd
awoke from its stupor. The jostling was
resumed and old friends greeted one an¬
other as they hastened from the church.
The cabmen once again claimed their
fares, and, in a short time, the square was
deserted, save for the few beggars who
remained to solicit alms in the name of the
Virgin. The festival of the snow had
come and gone.

A Glimpse at British Guiana.

A. J. D. WEDEMEYER.

A MERICANS are clever travellers and
usually know where to go and what
to see. It seems therefore strange that
more of them have not found their way to
the West India Islands, which are near
and have so much to offer tourists in
divers ways.

It was a bitter cold day when we left
New York. The deck and sides of the
ship were covered with ice and we had to
plow through heavy floes of ice as we
passed through the river and bay out to
sea. Two days out, however, we were in
the Gulf Stream, and every sign of winter
had vanished from both water and air,
and we were happy in the enjoyment of
the gentle zephyrs that refreshed both
mind and body. After making the usual
stops at Bermuda and a goodly number
of the West India islands, each one of
which has its peculiar charm and interest,
on the evening of the twenty-first of Feb¬
ruary, our ship sailed out of the harbor
of Bridgetown, Island of Barbados, and
pointed her old black nose due south, and

we were on our way to the South Amer¬
ican continent. We were told by those
who had been there, that the stretch from
Barbados to Demerara was always rough
and in Demerara it was always as hot as
hades. These tales influenced some of
the tourists not to proceed farther south
but to remain at Barbadoes until our re¬
turn.

While we were cruising in the Carib¬
bean Sea on the leeward side of the Lesser
Antilles we were shielded from the con¬
stant (easterly) trade winds and conse¬
quently the water was placid, and in¬
describably beautiful with the color of
sapphire, and the sky was clear in purest
azure hue, and the air soothing like the
balmiest days of June at home; but now
that we were right in the ocean, the
trade wind became stiff again on the
port side of the steamer, and while the
Atlantic was not entirely pacific, it was
not nearly as bad as we were led to believe
it would be. The sea now had the real
Atlantic color, dark green, until we came

Page 44

The TRAVELLER

nearer the shore of British Guiana, and
before we could see land, the water had
assumed a muddy appearance, increasing
in density as we proceeded to the mouth
of the Demerara River.

The much sightseeing we had previous¬
ly done, and the fact that we had been
confined so long to the restricted accom-

place. It was by far the handsomest and
most modern of all the places we visited
on our whole cruise, except Havana. Sun¬
day quiet prevailed all around. English is
the language spoken, but the city does not
look English in the least. The streets are
wide and clean, beautifully shaded by lux¬
uriant tropical trees on the sides, and some

modations of the ship, made us long for a
change and for rest on terra firma. It
was a beautiful Sunday morning when we
arrived at Georgetown.

We had sent word ahead so that rooms
might be reserved for us at a well recom¬
mended boarding house ; but alas, most of
our friends were sorely disappointed and
did not find what they had hoped for, and
rather than put up with what could be had
in town, they preferred to remain at night
on the steamer. The lack of good hotel
accommodations is unfortunately the pre¬
valent state of affairs all through the West
Indies. A few of us, however, found very
fair quarters, clean and airy, with good
board, a home-like place, presided over by
a painstaking and agreeable host.

As we entered the city we were most
agreeably surprised to find such a pretty

have handsome promenades in the center.
Still others have a sort of moat in the
middle, in which are cultivated to perfec¬
tion all kinds of tropical water plants, es¬
pecially the highly prized Victoria Regia, a
water lily, the leaves of which as they lie
on the water, measure from three to five
feet across and will float a baby if it be
placed upon one of them. The dwelling
houses are detached and are surrounded
by gardens filled with choice flowers and
shrubbery, some of which are always in
blossom. The houses make a palatial im¬
pression upon the observer when viewed
from the street. My friend remarked as
we walked along, that he felt as if he
were suddenly transported to Colombo in
the island of Ceylon, because of the strik¬
ing similarity of climate, plant growth,
color of soil, beauty and size of the streets

Native

Types.

A Hindoo
Settlement.

Bathing in a
courtyard of
a native’s
house.

The

Traveller’s

Tree,

Botanical

Gardens,

Georgetown.

Page 46

The TRAVELLER

and, with all, the East Indian coolie, with
his scanty dress and white turban, who
was also present. Thus we were at once
most agreeably impressed with George¬
town, the poor hotel accommodations be¬
ing the only drawback. Ah, what a lux¬
ury it was for me to lie on a large bed
once more, with a gentle, cool, tropical
breeze passing over me and no ship odor
to offend nor working machinery to annoy.

After resting thoroughly and enjoying
an excellent Demerara breakfast, we were
ready for anything good besides. Cab hire
is very reasonable in the city and with the
aid of an intelligent cabby sight-seeing is
made very agreeable. Demerara is about
as low and flat a country as any in
the world, not even excepting Holland.
Perhaps it was the topographical condition
that attracted the Dutch to settle here and
found a city, which, although it belongs
to England now, still bears the decided
characteristics of its original builders.

Part of the city is lower than the ocean
at high tide, therefore a great sea-wall has
been built to keep the sea from flooding it.
This sea-wall is an expensive but splendid
piece of engineering. It serves also as the
grand promenade for the gentle folk in
the evening after dinner, and for the
negroes on Sundays.

The Botanical Garden is very fine, be¬
ing large and remarkably rich in the va¬
riety and beauty of tropical plants, all of
which receive the best of care. In all my
wanderings in America and in Europe, I
have found nothing more absolutely cor¬
rect, both in plan and in consistency of
grouping, than is found here in this para¬
dise of floral magnificence. This garden
is certainly a marvel in its way and is, to
my mind, worth a trip to Demerara just
to look upon its glories.

Georgetown seems prosperous in a busi¬
ness way, yet the people say times are dull
to what they used to be when sugar was

king. Sugar was, up to a very recent date,
the only important industry in Demerara,
but now rice, tobacco and cocoa are being
largely cultivated. The sugar industry is
yet enormous in the colony, and the qual¬
ity of the raw product, Demerara crystals,
is the best in the world. One estate claims
to have two hundred thousand acres under
cultivation for sugar-cane alone. There
are many large plantations and an innum¬
erable number of small ones, all equipped
with modern machinery. To operate
these immense tracts requires an army of
laborers. The larger number of those em¬
ployed are East India coolies who are
brought here from Calcutta and Bombay.
The captains of the vessels who bring them
receive about twenty-five dollars a head for
all they land in Georgetown. They are
then indentured for five years to the differ¬
ent estates. The estates are required to
deposit sufficient money with the Colonial
Government to pay their passage back to
India after the expiration of the period of
their indenture, if they then elect to go
back ; else, they are at liberty to remain in
the colony, take employment with whom
they choose, make their own contracts,
farm it on their own account or go into
other business.

The largest mercantile house I have
ever seen, as far as area is concerned, I
found in Georgetown. It covers acres of
ground and has its own large docks in the
rear on the Demerara River. The man¬
ager, who conducted me personally over
the whole plant told me that they endeav¬
ored to carry in stock everything known
as merchantable from a toothpick to an
ocean steamship. Much of the trade here
is in the hands of Chinese and Hindoos.

The population of the city, like that of
the colony, is very cosmopolitan, for we
find here people from all parts of the torrid
and temperate zones. These Hindoos
struck me as the most interesting of all the

A GLIMPSE AT BRITISH GUIANA

Page 47

different kinds of folks we met with. They
are mild, inoffensive and polite. Among
themselves they are kind and affectionate
and devoted to their children. I was told
they are excellent servants, modest, duti¬
ful and industrious. Their skin is dark
brown, their hair is black, but long and
straight. Their features, while meager
are yet pleasant and often refined in expres¬
sion. Physically, they are the most per¬
fect of any people I have ever seen, almost
every man of them being a black Apollo,
while the grace and dignity of their move¬
ments are remarkable. Their clothing is
as scant and light as decency will permit,
nevertheless they are the most appropriate¬
ly dressed people in the country. They
are shy with the white people and they
shun the negro altogether, but take kindly
to the native Indians, who, like themselves,
have a mild and timid nature. They shed
no blood, as this is against their religion,
and they live almost entirely on vegetable
food. Illiterate they are, but very intelli¬

gent, and some among them are what we
Americans call “ smart.” Like all people
with uncertain religious beliefs, they are
superstitious and are strong believers in
astrology. We met one who called him¬
self “ Professor Piaray ” who for a silver
coin of sufficient size would lie down in
the grass with us, under the shade of a sa¬
cred calabash tree, and cast our horoscope
with the aid of a chart in Sanscrit, and he
did it cleverly.

Two days before we arrived in George¬
town a cargo of two hundred of these peo¬
ple had arrived. By reason of the long
voyage, seasickness and meager food, a
goodly number of the poor wretches had
died on the way, and those who reached
their destination were so emaciated and re¬
duced in strength that they had to be re¬
tained in a sort of recuperating station to
rest and be fed up into fit condition before
they could be assigned to the several es¬
tates to which they were indentured. One
cannot help but be attracted in sympathy

Page 48

The TRAVELLER

toward these quaint children of India.

The white people of Demerara do not
look healthy. They are mostly small and
thin bodied with sallow pinched faces and
deep set eyes, yet they claim to be perfect¬
ly healthy. They are certainly good na¬
ture personified, of which we had much
proof during our short stay among them.
We were invited to a swell wedding
which took place in the English cathedral.
This gave us the best general idea of the
social life of the people that could be had
during so brief a visit. The groom
came from England to meet his bride
here, get married and then return with
her to his home in Europe. All peo¬
ple of quality seemed to be present and
the whole affair was very pretty and
impressive, to which the unique sacred
edifice added hallowed solemnity. The
ceremony was dignified and refined, with
a strong English flavor. The ladies were
mostly attired in dark dresses with a
liberal display of black lace. The men
were not carefully dressed, in fact far
below American usage.

The Colonial Parliament or, as it is
officially called, “ the Combined Court,”
was opened while we were in Georgetown.
This was done with almost as much pomp
and ceremony as if King Edward were pres¬
ent in person. The whole garrison and
local militia took part, and great was the
excitement, for the new Governor General
was to open and preside at Parliament for
the first time. A gentleman, with whom I
had an interesting chat the evening be¬
fore, procured for me an invitation and
card of admission to the inner circle of the
Hall of Sessions, where seats were assigned
us among the foreign representatives and
ex-members of the Court. I was fortunate
enough to get a seat next to Captain White,
a veteran and prominent citizen of the col¬
ony, who knew everybody and their weight
and value. From him I got more infor¬

mation in an hour about the grand people
present and about the true inwardness of
things, political, commercial and social of
the colony, than I could have obtained
by reading or by living in the colony
for years perhaps. The Governor deliver¬
ed his opening speech sitting, which
chagrined my colloquial friend exceeding¬
ly. None of his predecessors had ever
done so, and he predicted a short residence
in the colony for His Excellency. The
Governor wore the full dress uniform of a
general and the regalia of his high office.

I have spoken before of the hospitality
of the people, which we enjoyed in many
ways. I was going through a garden and
came past where a family were having a
good time. I saluted and forthwith one
of the young men came out and invited
me to join them, which I did. It was but
a short time before dinner would be served
and, as they explained to me, they were
preparing for it by drinking swizzel. Now
“ swizzel ” is a potation peculiar to the
West Indies, and is made of limes, a bit of
Angostura bitters, a liberal dash of Jamai¬
ca rum, thinned down with water and
ice, and is then stirred vigorously with a
swizzel stick. Swizzel was not altogether
a stranger to me, for I had made his ac¬
quaintance in Martinique and Barbadoes,
but the large draughts these, my new
friends, ladies as well as men, took aston¬
ished me. Mr. Baker, a Scotch gentle¬
man, one of the party, assured me, that
observing this custom of swizzling well
before dinner made the people good nat-
ured and fever-proof. Let this assertion
be true or not, the social feature of it, as I
observed it on this occasion, was certainly
very pleasant.

One of the chief attractions offered to
us while visiting British Guiana was to go
on a small steamer up the Demerara
River, to get a glimpse of the primeval
South American forest. Arrangement for
this trip had been made, so that those who
desired could avail themselves of it. The
start had to be made early. Thus with

A GLIMPSE AT BRITISH GUIANA

Page 49

mingled feelings of regret and anticipation
we obeyed the summons to get up at
five o’clock in the morning, looking
forward to a day’s excellent sport, for we
felt we were about to penetrate into the
heart of a wild and unknown region, and,
perchance, meet at close quarters with the
wild beasts in the jungle and to undergo
such experience as would make the blood
of our friends at home run cold.

After a hasty breakfast we boarded the
little steamer Horatio, and started off,
rather sleepily, but in good spirits. The
first part of the journey was not particu¬
larly interesting. A broad, muddy and
sluggish stream, with low banks and no
sign of life, did not tend to arouse much
enthusiasm. Gradually, however, as we
steamed farther up, the river narrowed a
little. The tropical growth was large and
more luxuriant. The shores were cover¬
ed with overhanging shrubbery. The
winding river gave us new interest at
every turn. Unexpected little inlets open¬
ed before us and we could see along the
shore rude thatched huts and under the
shade of the palm and banana trees a few
half-clad natives, who waved a friendly
greeting to us. Now and then dugouts,
moving swiftly with the current, glided
silently by, or, obeying a dexterous twist of
the paddle by the occupant, made a land¬
ing on shore. We noticed many strange
trees and birds like heron, and others whose
names were not known to us. By means
of glasses we brought into closer vision
hanging bird nests which looked like round
balls suspended four or five feet from the
branches of the trees, making them safe
from prowling snakes.

A little after mid-day we reached Wis-
mar, a small settlement seventy miles
from Georgetown. Here we landed and
boarded a quaint little railroad train to
take us across country to Rockstone on
the Essequibo River. The railroad trip,
while not without interest, was somewhat
disappointing. Forest fires had burned a
wide strip along the railroad, which made
the country, in part, look desolate. We
saw, however, pineapples growing wild be¬
side the track, huge antnests in the trees,
and orchids of many varieties, and an im¬
penetrable forest beyond the burnt dis¬
trict, but saw no savage beasts lurking be¬

hind the trees, as we had so fondly hoped
we might see. Had our hopes been real¬
ized, we might have fared badly and
perhaps this tale would not have been
written.

After an hour’s ride we reached Rock-
stone, took luncheon at the comfortable
little inn, then back to Wismer and from
thence with the Horatio back to George¬
town. The sail down the river in the
quickly deepening twilight was beautiful.
The night came suddenly, as it always
does in tropical lands, and with it the
moon and the stars. The time passed
rapidly, and shortly after nine o’clock we
were again in our cozy quarters in George¬
town.

The days I spent in the Capital of
Demerara stand out in my memory as
among the brightest and happiest of my
life, especially the one on which we visited
the famous light-house. The sun had not
yet rised when we set out on our journey.
It was delightfully cool and the sky perfect¬
ly clear, which made the morning walk
very enjoyable. The officer in charge was
an educated colored man. We were led
up to the very top of the tower and every¬
thing in and about the lighthouse and its
manipulation was shown and explained to
us in a painstaking and gentlemanly man¬
ner. By means of the powerful lenses
we were enabled to look far out to sea and
upwards of a hundred miles inland, be¬
cause their are no mountains to interfere.
All this was interesting, but the climax of
joy and satisfaction lay in the indescribable
beauty of the scene presented to us by the
bird’s eye view of the city of Georgetown,
in richest tropical verdure, and with the
botanical garden in the back-ground, illum¬
inated by the rays of the rising sun.
Paradise ! oh. Paradise ! I could not re¬
strain myself being enraptured by the glory
of the vision, and spontaneously the whole
company started singing the doxology.
We felt spellbound and could scarcely
quit the place. Reluctantly, though
with grateful hearts for the inestimable
privilege of being permitted to visit one of
the fairest spots on earth, we departed
from the scene.

Late in the afternoon of the same day
we left Demerara, steaming northward
and homeward.

On the Trail of Three Travellers.

M. S. EMERY.

Illustrated from original Stereographs.

Ruins of the
Ancient Castle
of the O’Briens
near Galway.

A HUNDRED thousand people more
or less—probably many more—have
read Kate Douglas Wiggin’s delightful
volume called Penelope’s Irish Exper¬
iences. Readers of the Atlantic Month¬
ly eagerly looked for each succeeding chap¬
ter and the person first in possession of a
new number of the magazine chuckled to
himself or followed his family about read¬
ing bits aloud, according to temperament
and household custom. Then ever since
the volume came out it has been a prime
favorite at the book shops and libraries.
In these days of serious life problems and
dismal “problem” literature, no wonder
readers do appreciate a bit of fresh, honest
enthusiasm for the beauty of this old
world, and a delicious bubbling drollery
such as intermingle in the make up of this
unpretentious and altogether charming
little book.

I was one of the hundred-thousand-or-
so who had known Penelope and her
friends when they were in England ; then
during their memorable journey through
Scotland ; and lastly while they explored
the Emerald Isle in their quest of The

Rale Thing. I felt that the young woman
from Massachusetts who insisted on at¬
taching herself to their party was quite
right. I should have done the same my¬
self. Alas, why could we not all follow
after and see dear, untidy, poetic and fas¬
cinating Erin, walking in their footsteps ?
And then it occurred to me that perhaps
one might follow the storied trio across-
country by means of stereographs.

You remember how Penelope and Fran¬
cesca went out together in Dublin for their
first ride in a jaunting car ? “ It is easy to

tell the stranger, stiff, decorous, terrified,
clutching the rail with one or both hands,
but we took for our model a pretty Irish
girl who looked like nothing so much as a
bird on a swaying bough. It is no longer
called the ‘ jaunting ’ but the ‘ outside ’
car. * * * There was formerly an

inside car too, but it is almost unknown
in Dublin. * * * An outside car has

its wheels practically inside the body of the
vehicle but an inside car carries its wheels
outside. This definition was given us by
an Irish driver, but lucid definition is not
perhaps an Irishman’s strong point. * *

An Irish Jaunting Car.

ON THE TRAIL OF THREE TRAVELLERS

Page 51

There are seats for two persons over
each of the two wheels. * * You

must not be afraid of a car if you want to
enjoy it. Your driver will take all the
chances that a crowded thoroughfare gives
him. He would scorn to leave more than
an inch between your feet and a Guinness
beer dray,—but he is beloved by the gods
and nothing ever happens to him.”

Do you suppose this could by chance be
the very driver who expounded the mean¬
ing of an “outside” car? He looks it.

And then you recall the old Mardyke
walk in Cork near where Salemina stayed
with the Derelict and where the archaeol¬
ogist and his naughty babies came to live,
— “an avenue a mile long, lined with
noble elm trees ; forsaken now as a fash-

On the Prince of Wales’ Route, between Glengleniff
and Killarney.

ionable promenade, but still beautiful and
still beloved, though frequented chiefly by
nursemaids and children. * * * We

saw many a girl pretty enough to recall
Thackeray’s admiration of the Corkagian
beauties of his day. There was one in
particular * * there was a exquis¬

ite deluderin’ wildness about her, a vivac¬
ity, a length of eyelash with a gleam of
Irish gray eye. * * * ” And here is

the very Mardyke under its embowering

trees, maybe the same girl with the grey
eyes, though when Penelope saw her she
was driving a donkey-cart. She is a sweet
Irish lass, anyway.

Perhaps you lingered delightedly (I
did ) over the cottage that capable Benella

Interior of
St. Patrick’s
Cathedral,
Dublin.

hired one morning while she was out for a
walk. “ I liked the looks of the cottage
the first time I passed it,” the maid ex¬
plained casually to the three mistresses ;
“ and I got acquainted with the lady and
to-day I asked her if she didn’t want to
rent her home for a week to three quiet
ladies without children and only one of
them married and him away. She said it
wa’nt her own home and I asked her if
she couldn’t sublet to desirable parties and
she said it would suit her well enough, if
she had any place to go. I asked her if
she wouldn’t like to travel and she said no.
Then I says ‘ Wouldn’t you like to go
visit some of your folks ? ’ and she said she
s’posed she could stop a week with her
son’s wife just to oblige us. So I engaged
a car to drive you down this afternoon
just to look at the place, and if you like it
we can easily move over to-morrow.”

Perhaps this is not Rhododendron Cot¬
tage ; I am not quite sure of it myself. It
might easily be Sarsfield Cottage, the
cheery, spick-and-span dwelling of the

Page 52

The TRAVELLER

Hibernian who was writing the book on
the Groans of Ireland, and “ Faith, he
can abuse the English government with
any man alive.” If Penelope and Fran¬
cesca and Salemina did not hire this cot¬
tage nor even go a-visiting within its sun¬
shiny white walls, I am no Sherlock Hol¬
mes ; for,—look you,—what was the
name of the very next book Kate Doug¬
las Wiggin wrote ? What but the Diary
of a Goose Girl ! And anybody who needs
argument to convince him that this place
would naturally suggest the joys of goose-
herding is too dense to care for Mrs. Wig-
gin’s books at all !

All that long ride through the west of
Ireland has a strangely haunting charm.
The beauty and the sorrow, the absurd¬
ity and the poetry are all tangled up togeth¬
er just as tears and laughter seem entan¬
gled in the melody of an Irish song. Ire¬
land’s past looks at you through Ireland’s
present as the eloquent eyes of a long line
of ancestors may look through the tousled
hair of a street urchin. So it is with Ire¬
land’s ruined castles—so with the ancient
stronghold of the O’Flahertys near Gal¬
way. Once upon a time the lords who
lorded it here were mighty folk; they
thought so in Galway and even carved
over the west gate of their town From the
fury of the O' Flahertys, Good Lord , deliver
us. Now the descendants of the ancient
name are scattered and so indeed are the
stones of the ancient house.

“The gray arch crumbles
And totters and tumbles,

The bat it clings in the banquet hall,

In the donjon keep
Sly mosses creep ;

The ivy has scaled the ruined wall.”

Alas for their old time pride !

But it is not our author’s way to leave
us with tears in our eyes. Do you re¬
member how Penelope managed to bring
the affair of the middle-aged lovers to a
happy climax ? It was when they had all
gone back to Dublin, and Salemina and
the archaeologist were lingering in St.
Patrick’s cathedral for what might be
their very last talk together. Their last
talk together ? Not at all, if Penelope
knew herself, and if she could inveigle the
young organist into helping!

“ ‘Have you the Wedding March there?’
I asked. * * * ‘I am interested in

a romance that has been dragging its
weary length along for twenty years and is
trying to bring itself to a crisis just on the
other side of that screen. You can help
me precipitate it if you only will! ’

“Well, he was young aud he was an
Irishman, which is equivalent to being a
born lover, and he had been brought up
on Tommy Moore and music. * * *

The refractory pair of middle-aged lovers
started arm-in-arm ( down the middle
aisle ) on what I ardently hoped would be
an eventful walk together. * * *

Picturesque home of a prosperous tenant, County Kerry, Ireland.

The young organist, blushing to the roots
of his hair, trembling with responsibility,
smiling at the humor of the thing, pulled
out all the stops, and the Wedding March
pealed through the cathedral, the splendid
joy and swing and triumph of it echoing
through the vaulted aisles,” * * *

and what else could have happened? The
gay absurdity of it, and the tender sym¬
pathy of it together could not fail to hit
the mark ; and so the romance of sweet
Salemina and the wise professor blossomed
at last, here in the middle aisle of old St.
Patrick’s.

The Battle of the Flowers.

THE EDITOR.

W HEN the expulsion of our first
parents from Eden wrought the
loss of Paradise to man, the catastrophe
was not so irretrievable as appeared at
first, since scattered all over this varied
and beautiful world are numerous fair and
enchanted spots amid whose extraordinary
attractions the race finds ease, pleasure
and health. The old Sanskrit word
“ Paradeso" suggests at once the golden
age of the long past, when innocence and
happiness are supposed to have dwelt to¬
gether in a charming park or grove, and
where sorrow, pain or sin entered not ; a
place, as well, to which men shall resort
when the battle of life has ended.

These magical spots, which nature has
endowed with a wealth of beautiful
scenery and a genial climate, are the most
numerous in the north temperate zone,
since in tropical lands the deadly miasma
lurks in the loveliest
nooks, and an in¬
sidious poison is dis¬
tilled from the balmy
air of a perpetual
summer. It is reason¬
able to believe that
in addition to the
amazing wealth of
climatic and scenic
advantages which
make these resorts
famous, they are,with
scarcely an excep¬
tion, celebrated for
the beauty and var¬
iety of the flowers
which there abound
in rich profusion, lad¬
ing the air with per¬
fume, and giving a

touch of brilliancy and ecstacy to the
scene.

Who that has spent “Coaching Day”
in some charming village among the White
Mountains or witnessed the “Battle of the
Flowers” in some lovely retreat in Cali¬
fornia, can ever forget the magnificent
scene ? The glorious prodigality of the
blossoms, the deliciously perfumed air, the
flood of golden sunshine, the gladness that
seemed perennial, filled us with rapture.
What cared we for the great, cold, un¬
feeling world ? Were not our hearts
overflowing with
gladness, and

■ ■

■

was not the present ra¬
diant with unclouded bliss ? We do
not know, any of us—we never
shall—how much of the essential
beauty and sweetness of life, how
much of its delicate and pre¬
cious experiences are due to
the presence of the flowers,
those frail yet potential spirits
that robe with beauty and
ofttimes with splendor an
otherwise somber
world, and that
bring into the very
home, a ministry
and a prophecy
of better things.

Sorrowful occas¬
ions are rendered
less hopeless, and
joyous ones are
made more at¬
tractive by their
presence. No
greeting is so
exquisite in its
welcome and no
parting is so
tender in its fare-

;11 as those expressed by
the presence of the flow¬
ers. The best that men have
experienced and the most they hope
for are all symbolized by them, and
no better descriptions of the beau¬
ties of heaven itself can be given than
that of a place where the flowers never
fade ; for these frail children of the sun¬
shine cannot exist in harsh or unpro-
pitious surroundings, they shiver and
decay when circumstances grow stern.
It is a significent fact that the men
who have wrought
the mightiest in the
world have been

those who loved
the flowers. Great
souls, inspiration¬
al souls, from the
Supreme Man —
the Man of Naz-
ereth—down to
the late President
McKinley, have
all had a passion
for the flowers.
Seated one day
upon a hillside in

4 .

Galilee the Master
plucked a lily, which grew
just at hand, and having contem¬
plated its peerless beauty, exclaimed
“ Solomon in all his glory was not
arrayed like one of these ! ” and
President McKinley, the day before
the awful tragedy which resulted in his
death, remarked to a friend, “ With the
passing years I appreciate more than
ever the beautiful ministry of the
flowers.” It was said of Lord Byron
that he was the only person in Flor¬
ence, who, if he saw something yellow
in the distance, would •
not be disappointed
if, upon approach¬
ing, he found it
were a daisy rather
than a guinea.

It is a matter for
sincere congratu¬
lation that in our
own time flowers
have come into
such universal
favor. So popular
are they and so
numerous, that the

present might well be called
the floral age. In this connection it
is interesting to bear in mind that the
flowers are about the only things in the
world that have escaped the merciless
exactions of human criticism—
for while it is true that they
are not all as flawless as we have
been wont to think, it remains,
nevertheless, an indisputable fact
that they are as near faultless
as anything can possibly be.

We are told that
Hawthorne one day,
sending down, took
in his fingers a half-
• blown rose, as pure
and beautiful as a
thought of God,
which in reality it
was, and s m i 1 i n g
radiantly, he re¬
marked, “This is
perfect ! On
earth only a
flower can be
oerfect.”

Illustrated from original
Stereographs,

W HEN I awoke one morning, and
went on deck, I found that our
ship was anchored in Manila Bay. Before
me stretched the city along the water front,
and back of the city were the beautiful
blue mountains. All about us were the
native canoes, and my first desire was to
get into one of these boats and land as soon
as possible. After many weeks of life on
ship-board it would be delightful to feel
that I was on dry land to stay awhile.

It was several days, however, before I
was successful in obtaining my discharge
from the Captain, and when, at last, I had
it safely in my pocket I felt like a prisoner
just released from a penitentiary. I de¬
termined that if I ever again found it
necessary to work my passage on a ship, I
would take good care not to “sign on” for
any stated length of time.

I was agreeably surprised during my first
day in Manila. I found the place fully as
interesting as a great many European cities
which no tourist would think of missing,
and I was at no loss to spend my time
profitably during my stay there. The
streets of our colonial capital are teeming

with life and movement, and the Pasig
River, which divides tbe city into two sec¬
tions, is the busiest stream I have ever
seen, excepting only the River Thames at
London. Its surface is continually crowd¬
ed with small steamers, tugs, sailing ships,
canoes and every description of river craft,
so that for a row-boat to cross the Pasig is
as dangerous as for a pedestrian to cross
Broadway in New York at Twenty-third
Street.

The Pasig is spanned by a bridge which
is black with vehicles and pedestrians all
day long, so that when I first saw it I was
reminded of the grand old London Bridge,
with its crowds of noisy traffic. But the
river and the bridge were the only things
in Manila which reminded me of any other
city in the world. In other respects the
Filipino capital is unique, and such wind¬
ing streets, such decayed buildings and
such a population are not to be seen else¬
where. I soon discovered that there is a
“new” and an “old” city, and it was in
the walled district that I took up my abode.
I found it very interesting to visit the old
buildings and the places of historic inter-

WORKING MY WAY AROUND THE WORLD

Page 57

est, and each morning sallied forth to see
some place I had not seen before. There
were a sufficient number of churches so
that I could have attended a different one
each day for several weeks. Each had its
own attractions, and though I couldn’t
appreciate the Spanish service, I knew
that it wouldn’t do me harm to spend a
few minutes each day in one of their
beautiful temples.

Every person who has read anything
about Manila knows of the famous
Luneta. It is a drive along the water-front
which could hardly be surpassed, and in
the evening, from five to six, I delighted
to walk there to see the aristocracy of the
city out driving. It would be hard to find
a more cosmopolitan crowd in any city of
the East. There were always Filipinos,
Spaniards, Japanese, Mestizos, Europeans
and Americans in large numbers, and the
vehicles were as various as the people.
The crowd was so interesting that I some¬
times failed to admire the sunsets as they
deserved. They are surely as gorgeous as
can be seen anywhere in the world, and
each apparently surpassed the last.

What interested me more than any
buildings or natural beauties were the
Filipino people. For many reasons I found
them more interesting than the Arabians
or Egyptians, or any new peoples I had
seen on my journey around the world, and
though I observed them carefully for several
weeks, at the end I didn’t feel like ventur¬
ing any opinion concerning their capabili¬
ties. Governor Taft told me that he had
been in contact with them for nearly two
years, and wouldn’t care to make a predic¬
tion, so of course I couldn’t learn much of
them in the short time I was there. My
first impressions were decidedly favorable.
The women appeared modest and well be¬
haved, and though their dress is peculiar,
it is also picturesque, and the women are
always clean. But when I began to notice

that girls and women thought nothing of
smoking in the public streets, my feelings
naturally underwent a change. I also
learned in a few days that their clean ap¬
pearance is often accomplished through a
liberal use of powder, which is well adapted
for covering up dirt. I learned also that
Filipino girls are not overburdened with
modesty, since the army officers have found
it so difficult to keep them away from the
soldiers.

I was greatly amused at the self-conceit
of most of the natives. It is ridiculous
that they should have such a good opinion
of themselves when one considers their
history and attainments. They are firm in
the delusion that they are among the most
intelligent people on earth and that their
group of islands is the richest to be
found anywhere. Their unlimited faith
in their own abilities is the source
of much trouble for the American author¬
ities. When an official desires to appoint
a village President, and examines the ap¬
plicant, he invariably receives favorable
answers to his questions, whatever the
capabilities of the native may be.

Aguinaldo himself has been a striking
illustration of this characteristic. He is
convinced of his fitness for any position the
people might offer him, though he cannot
speak or write Spanish with any approach
to accuracy, and knows practically no Eng¬
lish at all. Soon after my arrival in Ma¬
nila I sought an interview with the fallen
chief, and through the courtesy of General
Chaffee it wasn’t difficult to arrange. I
found him living in a fine house, with a
guard of American soldiers and numerous
servants to make him comfortable. When
I entered his presence I found that in ap¬
pearance Aguinaldo is very much like the
average Filipino, except that he is taller
than most. He has pompadour hair, high
cheek bones and a prominent mouth. His
face is badly pock-marked, which doesn’t

Page 58

The TRAVELLER

add to the beauty of his appearance. They
say that he is extremely sensitive concern¬
ing these evidences of small-pox, and that
when he sits for a photograph he insists
that the artist must obliterate them in the
finished pictures.

Our conversation was not lengthy, and
was carried on through an interpreter.
Aguinaldo expressed some impatience at
being kept in ignorance concerning his
destiny, but he didn’t appear worried at the
prospect before him. I think he knew
very well that he would be released by the
American authorities before many months
had passed. I told him that he should ap¬
preciate being able to live in comfort with
his family after such a long separation, but
he replied that he couldn’t be content un¬
til conditions in the islands were more
settled. The Ex-dictator carried himself
with great dignity of manner, and required
a deal of ceremony in the conduct of his
household. His innate love for show was
well illustrated when he carried a band
of music with him during his retreat before
the United States troops. He was appar¬
ently determined to keep the band, what¬
ever else he left behind.

Before I took my departure, Aguinaldo
assured me that he had only the kindest
feelings toward the Americans, a bit of in¬
formation which I thought should be
cabled to the President on account of its
importance. Why shouldn’t he feel kindly
toward the people who had done every¬
thing to make him happy and contented
in his retirement ?

The city of Manila is more truly the
centre of all Filipino wealth and activity
than is Paris the capital of France and
London the incarnation of all that is great
in England; but I thought it would be a
great mistake if I sailed away for China
without seeing something of the people
and the scenery up the country. So when
the opportunity came to make a trip up the

Pasig River and the beautiful Laguna de
Bay, I took advantage of it, and, as a re¬
sult, had many interesting experiences.
The river-bank was bordered with dense
tropical vegetation, and among the trees
and vines were many native huts made of
the nipa palm, and standing on stilts.
Men and women were gathered along the
bank to wash their clothing, beating out
the dirt with stones, and ruining the fab¬
ric in the operation. By noon there were
no natives to be seen, and I concluded that
they were taking a siesta during the heat¬
ed spell.

It was a great panorama of tropical beauty
I saw before me, when the launch entered
the Laguna de Bay. I was reminded of
the lovely lakes of Switzerland. The pur¬
ple mountains stretched away as far as eye
could see, and in the little valleys along the
shore were tiny Filipino towns, each with
its church spire, and each flying the beau¬
tiful American flag.

About five o’clock in the afternoon I
reached the village where I was to spend
the night, and as it was only a small place,
with no hotel, I knew I would be depend¬
ent upon the hospitality of the soldiers for
my food and lodging. A troop of the
Fifth Cavalry was stationed there, and
their headquarters were in some buildings
which were connected with the church.

Of course the soldiers gave me some
supper, and after I had eaten a hearty meal
of beans and bacon, I started out with one
of them to see the village sights. We
called on several native families, and in
every place the mistress of the house
brought out cigarettes to offer us, and of
course she smoked one or two herself.
The conversation was necessarily limited
during these calls, for I could speak no
Tagalo, and my soldier friend knew but
little. After exchanging a very few
phrases, he would get up to leave, and I
wondered to myself whether the natives

WORKING MY WAY AROUND THE WORLD

Page 59

had really been much cheered by
our company. I enjoyed seeing the natives
in their homes, and was surprised to find
their huts so bare of furniture and decora¬
tions. Even the Presidente of the village
made no pretensions to comfort, and
seemed satisfied with a mat to sleep upon,
and a few cooking utensils.

It was after dark when we returned to
the old church from our ramble. The
great building stood grim and dark in the
centre of an open plaza and it seemed a
lonesome place, indeed. We seated our¬
selves in the doorway, and I was listening
to the story of a Filipino murder, when all
at once there was music in the air. We
listened as it came nearer and nearer and I
shuddered to hear it. There never was a
more melancholy tune. “I guess there’s
a funeral coming,” said one of the soldiers.
“What?” I asked, “Would they be having
a funeral at this hour of the night?”
The soldier laughed. “Of course,” he
replied, “the natives have them at night
because they are all through work and
have time to celebrate.

In a few minutes the procession appeared
around the corner. The village friar
walked first, and after him came the body
of the dead, carried on the shoulders of
four men. Then followed the band of
musicians, playing the funeral march, and
a crowd of mourners, who were howling
dismally. There was something very
wierd about the scene, and when my friend
suggested that we attend the service in the
church, I at first refused. But afterwards
I reflected that I might not have another
chance to see what a Filipino funeral is like,
and went in. It was a pitiful affair, that
service. The coffin was rested on the
floor, near the door, and after the priest
had murmured a few words in Latin, the
procession started for the cemetery, about a
mile from the town. The friar went home.

The soldier insisted that I should go

with him to the burying-ground, and
though I had no desire to visit such a place
on a dark night, I determined to overcome
my feelings. We walked much faster than
the funeral party, and reached the ceme¬
tery some time before them. It was so
very dark that we could scarcely find the
entrance, but once inside we saw the grave¬
diggers at work, and went over to watch
their operations. On the way I stumbled
over something that rattled like bones. I
jumped, and shuddered. “Doyou suppose
those were bones of people ?” I asked
my friend. “Why, yes,” he said, “don’t
be alarmed. When the natives are behind
with their rent for their cemetery lots, the
bones of their • ancestors are dug up, and
thrown aside. They don’t mind it, so
why should you ? ” This interesting infor¬
mation didn’t add any to my enjoyment
of the occasion.

When the procession came, the coffin
was placed on the ground, and the body
was taken out and wrapped in a straw-mat.
The soldier noticed my surprise at this
proceeding and explained that the coffin
would be carried back to the village to be
used on another occasion. “ Very few of
the natives here can afford to bury the
coffin,” he said. The body was placed in
the grave without any ceremony, and
though the mourners made a lot of noise, I
couldn’t see that any of them shed real tears.

If there had been any sorrow at the de¬
parture of the dead, it was soon forgotten
on the way back to town. The band
played a lively two-step instead of a funeral
march, and when the party reached home
there was dancing and feasting until the
early hours in the morning. I felt like
getting away from all Filipinos as soon as
possible, and tried to banish the memory
of that awful funeral from my mind. But
I am afraid the cemetery scene will remain
with me always, to make me distrust and
dislike my Filipino “brothers.”

Page 60

The TRAVELLER

“ CONFLICT OF IDEAS ” IN THE
FAR EAST.

T has always been a principle of Rus--
sian expansion, however, to preserve
the territorial solidarity of the empire. In
his extension of dominion the Russian
does not leap over spaces. No mountain
steeps, no forbidding desert, no frozen
waste, no hostile tribe, has ever prevailed
to break the absolute continuity of the
Russian domain from St. Petersburg and
Odessa to its remotest Asiatic frontier.
Except in the relatively unoccupied wilds
of Northern Siberia the Russian has not
advanced with startling rapidity. His
method is rather to make absolutely sure
of what he has before attempting to
acquire more. The result is that in all
the long story of Russian expansion one
almost never hears of uprisings in the
rear, or of forced retrenchment. Russia
has not been continually losing here and
gaining there, as was the custom of the
European empire-building nations a cent¬
ury or two ago. In fact, it may be said
that while she knows full well what it is
to be thwarted in her designs, she has yet
to learn what it is to lose by conquest or
otherwise what she has dearly bought by
blood and toil. The sale of Alaska to
the United States in 1867 is practically
the only territorial retrenchment in Rus¬
sian history, and the circumstances lead¬
ing to it were wholly exceptional. By the
sale Russia merely emphasized the essen¬
tial solidarity of her Asiatic-European
empire.

Applying this principle of solidarity to
the coast-line ambitions of Russia in the
neighborhood of Korea, it appears at once
that far more was necessary than the mere
acquisition of the shore and the establish¬
ment of ports. Before even attempting to
possess herself of the coast it was quite
essential that the hinterland be made Rus¬
sian. In other words, that great and

valuable district commonly known as
Manchuria must be completely and openly
possessed by the Muscovite power and
Chinese sovereignty must be forever ex¬
cluded from all the territory north and
northeast of the Gobi Desert.

^ %

Because of her command of Peking, her
vast inland possessions, and her thousands
of miles of territory contiguous with
China, Russia’s position is far stronger
than that of any of her rivals in the
Pechili. When her vast system of rail¬
roads—Trans-Siberian, Trans-Manchu¬
rian, and Trans-Chinese—is complete she
will be able at any time on very short
notice to pour such an army into the very
heart of the Chinese Empire as the powers
of Western Europe could hope to place
there only after years of time and an
inestimable cost of money and effort.

One can readily believe that the Slav
and Saxon will not meet in general war¬
fare in China for many years yet, perhaps
not for many decades. There is so much
room that there is no immediate necessity
for crowding upon each other. Certainly
neither power would be favorably disposed
toward a war with the other at the present
time. England would not feel equal to
the undertaking without extensive and
costly preparations. And the situation
will have to be much more vexatious than
it is yet before the English people will
consent to be taxed for a war on Chinese
soil.

On the other hand it may be repeated
that Russia prefers the slower but surer
method of aggrandizement by peaceful
means. Her experience goes to show that
the building of one railroad is worth more
to her imperial purposes than the waging
of half a dozen wars. Unless, therefore,
the utterly unexpected may happen in the
Far East (and there is not likely soon to
be any event more calculated to precipi¬
tate a war than the Boxer outbreak), the
conflict of Slav and Saxon in the Far
East may be expected for a long time yet
to be one of ideas rather than of firearms.
—From “ Saxon and Slav,” by Frederic
Austin Ogg, in The Chautauquan .

(The illustrations in this section are from original Stereographs.)

THE USE OF THE STEREO¬
SCOPE IN SCHOOL
GEOGRAPHY.

JACQUES W. REDWAY, F. R. G. S.

CO essential has field work be-
^ come in the study of geogra¬
phy that few courses of study fail
to provide both definite time and
definite work for it. And after
all, this is the only logical way;
reading about a thing is not neces¬
sarily a study of the thing. Neither
written language nor verbal ex¬
pression of a certainty convey
knowledge; in many instances
they only record it. Therefore
all teachers recognize the educative
value of objective methods in the
study of the earth sciences.

In the ordinary grade work of
geography pupils are expected to

become familiar with the
various forms of vertical re¬
lief, such as hill, valley,
range, peak, cliff, table-land.
In horizontal forms, about
every one ought to know
something of capes, beaches,
estuaries, harbors, straits,
peninsulas and the various
other coast forms. In the
study of physiographic pro¬
cesses and their agents we
must know about rivers,
lakes, glaciers, waves, cur¬
rents and winds, and the
manner in which they bring
about such effects of erosion
and corrasion, as canons,
gullies, flood plains, deltas,

Whirlpool Rapids from the Steel Bridge, Niagara.

Page 62

The TRAVELLER

moraines, bars, spits, dunes, etc.

Now, in this scheme there are
many and various concepts involv¬
ing not only the study of perhaps
a hundred distinct forms, but also
a certain degree of familiarity
with them. Moreover, as there
is much diversity in the matter of
forms, it is often quite essential to
know something or other of half
a dozen, more or less, of each
type.

Certainly one cannot study all
of these from nature. Probably
not one child in ten thousand
will ever see a volcano, a glacier,
a coral reef, or an iceberg ; and in¬
deed, one can worry along through
life fairly well without coming in
contact with any one of them,
however interesting they may be.

Most of them must be studied from
pictures. In the matter of the affairs of
life, however, the case is different. It
is necessary to know something about
iron, coal, wheat, meat, wool, cotton,
the methods of their manufacture, and
the methods of their transportation.
It is also essential that every intelligent
man or woman should know something
about foreign lands, and about the lives of
the people who live in them. People who
are absolutely ignorant about such subjects
are not fit for citizenship in any country ;
most assuredly such individuals are not
competent to be voters in a republic. The
happiness and prosperity of people in Lon¬
don, Paris, and Berlin depend much on
the rain-fall in Nebraska, Kansas, Wyom¬
ing and Texas ; while the price of wheat
in Chicago depends to no little extent on
climatic conditions in India. In other
words one half of the world is growing to
be so dependent on the other half that
ignorance about either is almost fatal to
the happiness of the other.

But the privilege of visiting foreign lands
is given to comparatively few; the great
majority of people must obtain their know¬
ledge of the world by reading about it, or
by coming in contact with those who have
travelled, or by studying pictures of it.
One sort of ideas may be obtained by read¬
ing or by conversation with travellers, and if
only they are supplemented by the use of
pictures they become, in a way, a fair sub¬
stitute for the knowledge one gets by travel.

The only objection ever raised against
picture study is the fact the picture pre¬
sents but two of the three dimensions. To
an adult mind this drawback is not so se¬
rious as to the child; to both, however, it
is a positive detriment. In order to ob¬
viate this objection topographic models
have been suggested, but the few models
made by Mindeleff, Howell and the mag¬
nificent set of Professor Davis excepted,
their use has been unsuccessful. The
great mass of models represent topography
which does not and cannot exist; they are
therefore worse than useless.

USE OF STEREOSCOPE IN SCHOOE GEOGRAPHY

Page 63

Within a short time the stereoscope,
once a toy, but now an instrument absol¬
utely necessary to geographic science, has
been coming rapidly into use. The pro¬
fessional man finds it essential to resort to
it; why then is it not equally necessary to
the school room ? The stereoscope sup¬
plies the missing link; it gives the third
dimension to a flat surface. With its use
the whole picture stands out in relief. It
is no longer a picture; it is a broad land¬
scape. The flat photograph has distortion;
the stereoscopic photograph corrects this
distortion and gives true proportion. The
unaided eye cannot perceive the smaller
details ; the stereoscopic view often has
the value of a telescopic view with all the
features of solid relief in addition.

In the study of Alpine glaciers there
was one feature, the lack of which I great¬
ly regretted ; namely—I could not see the
whole of a great glacier and observe all the
details at the same time ; to that extent,
therefore, the study was incomplete and
disappointing. A few days since I receiv¬
ed a stereograph taken under the most
favorable atmospheric conditions and from
a remarkably advantageous position, that
presented a bird’s-eye view of what I had
never before seen—the whole glacier from
start to finish ; and thus often to the
ordinary traveller the stereoscopic may
be more instructive than the actual
view.

Some years ago I had a lantern slide
made for one of my lectures showing a
certain view of Mt. Vesuvius, just after
the eruption of 1872. The picture never
looked just right, and I could not quite
understand why, until I saw a stereoscopic
view. With the use of the stereoscope a
coulee of lava that, in the flat view lay
against the cinder cone, in the stereograph

stood out in relief at some distance. In¬
deed, instances of this sort might be mul¬
tiplied almost ad infinitum. They simply
emphasize the fact that the ordinary flat
photograph, the perspective of which is
necessarily distorted, is hound to give an im¬
perfect idea.

But it is in the field and observational
studies in geography that the stereoscopic
view gives the most important results.
Much of this sort of work must be done
by the use of pictures, and the clever geo¬
graphy teacher is finding it out. In small
schools the use of the lantern is expensive;
the outfit itself means an outlay of from
one hundred to three hundred dollars, and
if gas tanks are employed, the cost of illus¬
trating is not far from two dollars per
hour. The latter sum alone would in the
course of a term equip the school with a
pretty complete list of stereographs. More
over, the lantern view is flat, while the
stereograph is in relief. It is evident that
whole classes may use them in the ordin¬
ary work of demonstration, or the pupil
may study them in his individual field work
—for much of the field work may be done
in-doors as well as out-of-doors. In the
study of foreign countries and their peo¬
ples there are great opportunities. And,
indeed, in the use of the stereoscope and
the stereoscopic view there is an entirely
new field to be opened. It is a field that
hitherto has been closed to both teacher
and pupil, and to both there are possibil¬
ities of study and research that are little
dreamed of. In my own studies they have
been a revelation, and I find in them
what I cannot obtain either from maps or
from descriptive text. Indeed, I do not
know of any device more helpful to the
teacher of geography than a stereoscope
with a good assortment of stereographs.

Page 64

The TRAVELLER

A Wind-Power Grist Mill, Wisby, Sweden.

Toppo Falls, Sweden.

INTERNATIONAL TRAVEL¬
LERS’ CLUB.

A Trip to Scandinavia — “A Land of
Twenty Yosemites.”
npO one who has not looked upon its
glories, there awaits a rich experience
and a glad surprise in a visit to the Land of
the Midnight Sun, which is also a land of
Fjords and Lakes, a veritable Yosemite (in
fact, a land of twenty Yosemites), and a
place of perpetual daylight during certain
months, which makes Norway the Mecca
of the lover of travel in the summer months.

The ideal way to see this delightful land
is not simply to skim along the coast and
look upon simply the fringe of the beauties
which abound, for with taking such journeys
it is impossible to appreciate the unrivaled
charms of the country, but to penetrate into
the interior of the country by carriages and
lake steamers over well selected routes.
Of course those who simply take the coast
trip get something, and something so varied
and impressive that it never can be forgotten,
but having taken the time and undergone
the expense of travelling so far, it would
seem to be the part of wisdom to spend a
little more money and take a little more
time and become better acquainted with
what is, without doubt, the most attractive
summer land in the world. It is only by
travelling from station to station, called
“Skydstaddt,” in carriages and lake steam¬
ers, that this fuller and better vision of the
“land ideal’’ can be had, and only by
associating with its simple, honest and
good-natured people and becoming familiar
with the customs of the country can one
make himself at home in this land of illu¬
mined summer and become conscious of the
peculiarly fascinating influence which the
place exercises over all who linger among
its romantic charms.

As in no other place on the round globe,
Norway is the home of bastion precipices,
towering mountains, charming valleys and
peerless lakes, interspersed with foaming
torrents and mighty water-falls, and the
beauty of all is intensified by the magic
touch of a starless summer.

It is unnecessary to enlarge upon the de¬
lights of such a landscape or the pleasure of
meeting such a kindly people with their
picturesque homes, but an experience ap¬
proximating that of an actual visit awaits
those who study the stereographs of the
Scandinavian Tour which reproduce, rather
than represent, the veritable scenes them¬
selves, which have been thus described by a
famous traveller.

“ Western Norway may be termed the
Land of the Fjords, while the North is

INTERNATIONAL, TRAVELLERS' CLUB

Page 65

termed the Land of the Midnight Sun, and
the most suitable name for the South is the
Land of the Lakes. Norway is its Fjords—
Lakes and Perpetual Daylight. It is difficult
to imagine a more desirable country for the
tourist in search of the beautiful for paint¬
box, or camera, or for pleasure, change,
rest or health. One month in the open air
of Norway, which is traversed in carriage
or aboard steamers, will restore to health any
invalid not organically beyond recovery.”

The following is a practical itinery of
such a trip :

May 27
June 7
June 7
to

June 9
June
to
June
June
to
June
June
June
June
June
June
june
June
June
June
to
June
June
June
June
June
to
June
June
July

Sail from New York.

Arrive Copenhagen.

At Copenhagen.

To Gothenburg via Gotha Canal.

To Christiania.

At Christiania.

Via Lake Spirellen to Sorum.
To Fagernaes.

To Grindaheim.

To Maristuen.

To Laerdalsoren
To Eide.

To Odde,
To Bergen.

To Vadheim.
To Forde.

To Egge.

July

Aug.

Sept.

12
12

20
21
22
22 .

At Bergen.

24 ‘

26
271

"To Merok.

29 J

30 To Soholt.

1 To Naes.

2 Excursion to Horgheim.

3 To Molde.

4 At Molde.

5 To Trondhjem.

Cruise to North Cape

and the Midnight Sun.

Romsdal Valley Valders
Route by
Carioles and Lake
Steamers.

Romsdal Valley Valders
Route by

Carioles and Lake Steamers

18
18

22
23

25
25

30
30

1
1

4
4

6 j

1
15)

17
17
17.

In Paris.

23 3

21 To London.

23)

> In London.

26)

3 Arrive in New York.

To Stockholm.

At Stockholm.

En route to St. Petersburg.

At St. Petersburg.
x At Moscow.

En route to Innsbruck.

At Innsbruck.

By diligences over the 7 Swiss
Passes to Meiringen
At Interlaken.

To Paris.

Cost of trip, $500.00.

Peasant Children in the Royal Park, Denmark.

Stockholm. Sweden.

S 01

3 V-
* $

8 j

•3 .5

k >.

•s a
S 5
1/3 v

yj •?

3 3

U 1

Co -vi

8 k

« R

(1) The red lines on this map mark out the territory shown in the respective stereographs.

(2) The numbers in circles refer to stereographs correspondingly numbered.

(3) The apex (), or point from which two lines branch out, indicates the place from which the view was taken, viz.,
the place from which we look out, in the stereograph, over the territory between the two lines.

(4) The branching lines ( —=C^H) indicate the limits of the stereographed scene, viz., the limits of our vision on the right and
left when looking at the stereograph.

(5) The stereograph number without a circle is frequently placed at the end of each branching line (example
to help locate quickly the space shown in a stereograph.

(6) Sometimes the encircled number is placed where it can be seen better and a zigzag line runs to the apex to which it refers.

(7) Where the field of view in the stereographed scene is limited, its location is designated by the number of the stereograph
in a circle without the branching lines.

SWITZERLAND

Page 67

SWITZERLAND.

[Extracts from a book, “‘Switzerland Through the Stereoscope,”
by M. S. Emery, explaining one hundred stereographs
of Switzerland.]

A LL this time there are most enchanting spots
all around us and behind us ; especially off
here at our right there is a region which we must
not miss seeing,—the heart of the Upper Engadine,
about the lakes. Map. No. 6 shows the region in
question near the center of the district that is given
on this special sheet, extending from southwest to
northwest. The whole valley in which the lakes
lie is at a very high level ; but, high as it is, it is
surrounded by mountains still higher. We will
go up to a summit where you see the spot marked
42 and look almost directly north over the little

Moritz which have been known for centuries ; in
fact, as far back as 1539 Paracelsus praised the
virtues of the mineral waters here, and for fully
four hundred years pilgrims have come to St.
Moritz in search of health and strength. The
waters are charged with iron, carbonate of lime,
magnesia and sulphate of soda. People drink
them and bathe in them besides, according to the
orders of physicians, and their virtues are highly
praised by the doctors of to-day.

This lovely mountain country is a region of
greater prosperity than are many of the other
mountain valleys of Switzerland. A great many
of the natives of the Engadine go away from home
for a term of years, making little fortunes in Paris
and Vienna, Frankfort and Dresden and Berlin,
and then come back to settle down on modest
incomes for the rest of their lives. There is less

No. 42,

Upper

Engadine,

looking

northeast

from

Hahnensee,

Switzerland

lake called the Hahnensee, and down still farther
over the town of St. Moritz and another lake
which lies beside the town.

42. Upper Engadine , northeast from the
Hahnensee.

Is it not an enchanting outlook ? This is the
Hahnensee, the little lake just below us, and the
farther lake is that of St. Moritz, with the town
over there on the western shore. St. Moritz itself
is as high above the sea level as the summit of the
Rigi near Lucerne, although it lies in a valley.
The valley runs from southwest to northeast, and,
what with the dryness of the air on account of the
height, and its warmth on account of the exposure
to southern sunshine, the valley is a favorite win¬
ter resort for invalids from all over the world.
And the air is not the only medicinal agency at
hand. There are mineral springs down in St.

poverty here than in most parts of Switzerland,
and of course the great influx of visitors in sum¬
mer, together with the presence of a large number
even in winter, provides a steady income for those
of the people who are engaged in the business of
keeping hotels and pensions. This is consequently
one of the bits of earthly paradise where there are
comparatively few reminders of the troubles born
of grinding poverty.

Beautiful as the view is, looking in this direc¬
tion towards the Tyrol and Southern Germany,
the outlook towards the south in the direction of
Italy, directly behind us on our left, if possible, is
even lovelier. If we turn about, changing our
standpoint by only a few rods, and look southwest
over the Silzer and Silvaplana lakes we shall see a
scene of ideal grandeur and beauty. See the lines
connected with the number 43 on Map No. 6.

Page 68

The TRAVELLER

41 . The Beauty and Splendor of the Engadine ,
looking southwest from the Hahnensee to the
Maloja.

Could anything be more beautiful than this
view between the mountain heights over these
placid lakes, with the sunshiny sky above our
heads ? This lake (the two evidently were one
not so very long ago, for the sand-bar dividing
them shows on the very face of it that its origin
was recent,) seems just the one to have been
named in our American Indian fashion, like
Winnepesaukee in the heart of America’s Switzer¬
land, “ the smile of the Great Spirit.”

We cannot help wondering as we look down
this valley how long it will be that travellers will
continue to have this outlook over smiling sheets
of water. Just below us, down there at the right
where we see the houses of Silvaplana, at the end

Symond’s account of the sleigh-ride which he took
with his daughter in April, 1888, is well worth
reading.* It was at the close of a winter spent in
Davos-am-Platze, a village twenty miles to the
north from here, that the two undertook to come
down to Silvaplana, and beyond through the
Maloja Pass at the farther end of these lakes, to
go down into Italy. The snows had been very
heavy that year, and in April the drifts were still
of enormous depth. The travellers had to change
horses many times in the course of the journey,
and a great deal of the way the original roadways
were entirely concealed by masses of rock ava¬
lanches and snow avalanches which had fallen
during the winter and early spring. The snow¬
drifts were so soft at the time of making the
journey that the danger of further avalanches was
very great, and, according to the custom of this

No. 43,
Beautiful
Engadine,
looking
southwest
from
Hahnensee,
.Switzerland

of the nearer lake, we can see how deposits of
sand and gravel, brought down by mountain
streams, are gradually filling in the bed of the
lake and forcing the waters to retreat. Surely it
will not be so very many centuries before the bed
of this valley will be made up of green fields, and
the mountain travellers of those days sitting on
this hill will be speculating as to how the valley
must have looked when its ancient hollows were
filled with water ! The water, by the way, is now
as clear as crystal. People have sometimes de¬
clared it was like liquid air, so clearly can one
distinguish pebbles and other details below the
surface.

On the sunny summer day it is difficult to im¬
agine how the place would appear when every¬
thing is covered deep with winter’s snow, but if
one wishes to help out his imagination in that way,

country, the driver of the sleigh used no bells,'—-
the vibration of bells has been known many a time
to start the movement of an avalanche, causing
great disaster. At one place on the road, not far
above Silvaplana, the inn at which the travellers
stopped for refreshment was reached by going
down six feet below the road level, the snow-drifts
having elevated the road to that extent. The tele¬
graph posts thirty feet high, were buried almost or
entirely out of sight, their tips here and there
projecting above the snow. It was a great relief
to come down the last hill into the lighted streets
of Silvaplana, down there on the edge of the
lake, and know that the worst of the journey
was over.

*A chapter in “Our Home in the Swiss Highlands,” John
Addington Symonds.

HOMILETICAL WINDOWS TO THE HOLY LAND.

PART IV.

REV. DANIEL SHEPARDSON, PH. D.

W HAT thoughtful person who loves his
fellows and longs to boost humanity to a
higher, purer, nobler plane of living can look out
upon that narrow, crowded thoroughfare of Jeru¬
salem, so vividly presented to us in “ Christian
Street—Motley Life in the Holy City’s Bazaar
District (Stereograph No. 19), without being
stirred anew over the great and growing “ Prob¬
lems of the City ! ” This rapid growth of cities is
a world phenomenon, and the “Problems of the
City’’ furnish themes for pulpit discourse which
may well command and indeed must sooner or
later surely demand our most serious attention and
the most careful and conscientious treatment. Our
urgent business as Christian ministers is to declare

merging of small, individual concerns into mighty
syndicates, this living in large apartment houses
instead of in separate homes, tends to dull the
sense of personal responsibility and deaden the
feeling of individual privilege! And yet intimate
relationships involve increased responsibilities and
enlarged possibilities of service. If in that ancient
age of isolation when men and women, mutually
ignorant and mutually suspicious, lived apart from
each other, Paul could say in his epistle to the
Romans: “None of us liveth to himself, and
none dieth to himself;’’ with what added em¬
phasis should this truth come to us now in a time
of multiplied relationships and intensified respon¬
sibilities ? It is so easy to feel one’s self lost in

Christian
Street—
Motley Life
in the Holy
City’s
Bazaar’s
District—
Jerusalem.

the two-fold aspect of the kingdom of God, which
kingdom looks not only Godward but also man-
ward. The Christian pulpit need not and should
not be less theological, but it must to-day be more
sociological. We should not emphasize the first
command less, but we must accentuate the second
command more. Our duties to God are important,
but our duties to our fellow-men are hardly less
important. The second command is “ like unto
the first.” Indeed that disciple who loved most
and saw deepest said: “Unless we love our
brother whom we have seen, how can we love God
whom we have not seen?” Such writings as
Dr. Josiah Strong’s “Our Country,” and “The
New Era” furnish much suggestive material for
the minister who would speak upon such a live
series of topics as “The Problems of the City.”
How this massing of men and women together in
our large and constantly enlarging cities, this

the crowd, yet never do we get away from the fact
of influence. Down such a crowded street as this
“ Christian Street in the Bazaar District of Jeru¬
salem ” Simon Peter once passed carrying blessing
wherever he went. There had been a time when
his influence had been harmful, but now he had
become so thoroughly a spirit-filled man that the
people laid their sick friends in the narrow passage¬
ways “that, as Peter came by, at the least his
shadow might overshadow some of them.” So
every one of us to-day, even amid the rush and
roar of city life, casts a shadow for weal or woe,
for hindrance or help. That shadow, as has been
said by another, is “the involuntary, unconscious
influence of our lives,” and it makes its impres¬
sion either little or large, for blessing or blight,
upon every one with whom we come into contact.
Not only are we a composite of all that we have
met, but we ourselves become a part of all those

Page 70

The TRAVELLER

that we touch. Herein lies much of the beauty
and blessedness, or it may be the ugliness and
awfulness of life. When two wires run parallel
an electric current sent through one of them will
induce in the other a weaker current similar to
itself; for this reason we can telegraph from
moving trains, and by virtue of this fact when
speaking through the telephone we hear other
voices speaking over parallel wires. So our lives
are constantly inducing in other lives currents
similar to our own, while at the same time we
ourselves are being influenced by the forces about
us. What we say and do and are speak loudly as
through a megaphone to all who pass by. Every
thankful, cheery, brave life that is anywhere lived
helps others to be grateful, happy and strong;
while every ungrateful, wretched, cowardly life
depresses all that it touches. We have no right to
be harmful. It is imperative that we be happy
and helpful as we pass along these crowded streets
of life.

What a parody upon the religion of Jesus is that
“ Easter Procession of the Greek Patriarch, Enter¬
ing the Church of the Holy Sepulchre! ” (Stereo-

which ruled his life can there ever be anywhere a
sure basis for permanent peace. When we re¬
place our pushing for prominence with a seeking
to serve, when we think of life as a mission to be
fulfilled rather than as a career to be accomplished,
we find ourselves more and more possessed with
the spirit of peace-makers, and we make it
manifest that we are indeed the true children of
God. Let us follow Paul as he followed the
Master, and continually insist upon the primacy of
love. What can we do from the pulpit in our
preaching and in our prayers to hasten the day
when Christ’s petition, “that they may be one,
even as we are,” shall be answered? Why not
forcefully and faithfully interpret afresh to the
people Christ’s words:—-“By this shall all men
know that ye are my disciples, if ye have love one
to another?” If cut-throat competition is no
longer regarded as good business and is gradually
giving way before intelligent and kindly co¬
operation, how long before the church of God
shall realize that loving co-operation in the place
of jealous, unworthy competition is the better way
to advance God’s business ! Uniformity in worship

“ The New
Calvary,”
Outside the
Damascus
Gate, from
the northern
Wall,
Jerusalem.

graph No. 22) How humiliating to see those
Moslem Turkish soldiers standing guard to prevent
these Christians from fighting each other at what
they believe to be the very tomb of their Lord and
Master! For it was to the mind of this same
Master that Paul appealed in his plea to the
Philippians that they might “be of the same mind,
having the same love, being of one accord, of one
mind ; doing nothing through faction or through
vain glory, but in lowliness of mind, each count¬
ing other better than himself ; not looking each of
you to his own things, but each of you also to the
things of others.” It was the mind of the Christ
who died here that was ever to be the basis of the
truest unity even amid wide diversity ; the spirit of
humble, unselfish service; the mind of one, “who
existing in the form of God, counted not the being
on an equality with God a thing to be grasped,
but emptied himself, taking the form of a servant,
being made in the likeness of men; and being
found in fashion as a man, he humbled himself,
becoming obedient even unto death, yea, the
death of the cross.” He was himself the Prince of
Peace, and only in the triumph of the principle

and work is not possible perhaps, nor even desir¬
able, for the best results to all, but unity of spirit
and a cordial co-ordination of effort would mightily
advance the kingdom of God upon earth. The
Christian Endeavor Society and The Brotherhood
of the Kingdom, together with many other Union
Conferences, are helping splendidly. Surely what
builds up one company of Christians in the truth
ought to help all friends of Jesus and cause all to

rejoice. Too many of us have been too often

tempted like the disciples of old to call down

thunder from heaven upon those who follow not

closely with us. Too often have we forgotten the
words of our Master : — “ A house divided against
itself cannot stand.” Let us each help to compel
the world again admiringly to confess, as in days
of old, “ How these Christians love each other ! ”
Who can look upon that company weeping at
“The Jews’ Wailing Place, Outer Wall of Sol¬
omon’s Temple,” (Stereograph No. 25) and not
hear again the clarion call forcefully to warn
all people against the awfulness of apostacy ?
A clear interpretation of the sixth chapter of
Hebrews is always stimulating, suggestive and

HOMILETIC AL WINDOWS TO THE HOLY LAND

Page 71

wholesome. How often the stern lesson of life
needs to be re-emphasized Use or Lose.”
For the one who neglects his opportunities, and
continues to neglect them, Christ predicts the
outer darkness:—‘‘There shall be weeping and
gnashing of teeth.” Of the desolation of this city
that knew not in the day of her opportunity the
things that belonged to her peace, Lawrence Hut¬
ton has written: — ‘‘Jerusalem has no concert
halls, no theatres, no lecture rooms, no places of
amusement, no street bands, no wealthy or upper
classes, no mayor, no aldermen, no elections, no
newspapers, no printing presses, no book stores,
no cheerfulness, no life. No one sings, no one
dances, no one laughs in Jerusalem ; even the
children do not play.” These weeping Jews are
never allowed even to enter the Temple area, but
here without the wall they stand and mourn their
lot, even the children of those who once foolishly
cried: — ‘‘His blood be upon us and upon our
children 1 ” And yet, if they would only turn to
Jehovah in true penitence for their sins and accept
the Christ, they would find a great and a gracious
God, mighty in mercy, yearning to forgive and

the new, of trenchant teaching upon this subject !
What depths of emotion are stirred within us and
how many lines of thought open before us as we
gaze reverently upon “ ‘The New Calvary’ Out¬
side the Damascus Gate, from the Northern Wall ”
(Stereograph No. 26) ! At once the familiar
verse is recalled :—

“ There is a green hill far away
Without a city wall,

Where the dear Lord was crucified,

Who died to save us all. ”

Would not merely a sympathetic reading of the
gospel account of the crucifixion of Christ with
brief and wise comments prove to be a restful and
moving service for some Sabbath morning or even¬
ing ? Few persons in the average congregation
have the quiet and opportunity (or at least do not
find them) for a thoughtful perusal of the story
of history’s greatest tragedy. Do we often enough
give the Bible a fair chance to tell its own story
in its own way ? Is there not a promise some¬
where connected with God’s own words ? And
does not the Christ say, ‘‘And I, if I be lifted up
will draw all men unto me?” A man who had

A Tomb
with the
Stone Rolled
Away.
(Tombs of
the Kings),
Jerusalem.

to restore. ‘‘Return unto me, and I will return
unto you, saith the Lord.” We cannot too con¬
stantly set forth in this easy-going age when there
seems to be so little real conviction of sin, when
some have even dared to state that sin was but a
necessary step in our upward evolution, or per¬
chance not a real thing at all but only ‘‘ a fiction
of mortal mind ”—in such a time we cannot too
clearly set forth the real nature and inevitable
consequences of sin, the meaning of repentance,
the fact and effect of forgiveness, and how to get
the victory over sin. A whole series of very live
and stimulating sermons could be preached upon
these and kindred themes to the great profit of all
hearers. We are reminded, too, by this scene,
that it was over against these mighty stones
of Solomon’s temple that Jesus once sat, and,
noting the people bringing their offerings, spake
those significant words about the widow and her
two mites. How much our people need to be
instructed upon the duty and privilege of giving,
upon the blessing that comes from systematic
beneficence, upon giving as a part of true worship !
How full the Bible is, both the old testament and

attended a sale of fine pictures declared that he
went away wonderfully impressed with a picture
which he had seen, whose points of excellence had
been briefly described by a salesman who stood
behind the painting. He did not recall that he
had seen the salesman, but he said that he would
never forget the picture. Somehow let us get be¬
hind the cross and give the crucified a chance.
Let us resolve anew with the greatest gospel
preacher of the ages to “ know nothing save Jesus
Christ and him crucified.” When we are looking
upon “ The New Calvary” is a good time to be¬
gin. Let us read James Denney’s new and
thought-compelling book upon ‘‘The Death of
Christ” and preach again upon the significance
of Calvary. How long since you have graphically
described those three groups around the cross, the
indifferent soldiers, the mocking multitude and the
loving friends ? How characteristic they are of
the various attitudes of men to-day toward Christ!
How significant was that inscription upon that
cross! How meaningfull those ‘‘seven words”
that fell from his loving lips ! When will the
story of the converted Thief lose its helpfulness?

Page 72

The TRAVELLER

Are we quite sure that our people understand as
they should “The Grace of God”? Have we
ever studied 1 John, 3:16 by the side of John, 3:16
in the light of Calvary ? In this age when the so-
called “New Theology” tends to minimize the
the importance of Christ’s death we need to think
deeply and speak clearly upon the pathos of the
cross ; for some professing Christians sing with
hesitation that grand old song :

“in the cross of Christ I glory,

Towering o’er the wrecks of time ;

All the light of sacred story
Gathers ’round its head sublime.”

As we thoughtfully turn away from this scene
of his death our vision is arrested by “ The Tomb
of our Lord” (Stereograph No. 27) and by “A
Tomb with the stone rolled away ” (Stereograph
No. 28); and we are vividly reminded of the
words: “Since then the children are sharers in
flesh and blood, he himself also in like manner
partook of the same ; that through death he might
bring to nought him that had the power of death,
that is, the devil ; and might deliver all them who
through fear of death were all their life time sub¬

days our blessed Savior travelled along this same
way to and from his suburban home in Bethany.
What conversations Christ and his disciples must
have had along this road ! What far reaching
thoughts were surging in his own soul ! Near
this spot he cursed the barren fig tree. And just
where we are now standing, as is supposed, the
first of his faithful followers to meet a martyr’s
fate, Stephen, hurried here by a raging mob from
the nearby Temple, was stoned to death. How
noble the character of Stephen ! How important
the work of this man who seems to have been the
first of the disciples to catch a glimpse of the uni¬
versality of the gospel ! But what is that awful
sight by the side of the road ? “Wretched lepers
outside of Jerusalem”!! (Stereograph No. 34).
What a terrible picture of sin in its nature and
effects is this dreadful disease ! How vivid and
realistic this scene makes that incident of the
“Cleansing of the Ten Lepers”! How full of
helpful homiletical material the story is! And
what a treasure-house for the preacher is the Heal¬
ing of Naaman the Syrian ! But let 11s hurry on
away from this dreadful sight, until, passing over

“ Unclean !

Unclean !”

Wretched

Lepers

Outside

Jerusalem.

ject to bondage.” How Christ has changed our
thought of death ! What does scripture mean
when it asserts that “ Christ hath abolished
death.” Does it refer to the fact or the force of
death, or to both ? How powerfully that “ Stone
rolled away” speaks of the Risen Christ, and how
desirable and indeed necessary that we should keep
clearly before the people of this generation the
many indubitable proofs of his Resurrection !

But we must hurry on from scene to scene, as
only a little time remains for further “Homiletical
Windows” to-day. As we enter the Holy City
again we pause for a moment to look upon the
“ Damascus Gate, the Northern Entrance to Jeru¬
salem ” (Stereograph No. 29) with its suggestions
of Saul of Tarsus and his journey of persecution;
and then pass quickly along the narrow streets by
way of the “ Site of Solomon’s Temple” (Stereo¬
graph No. 30) upon which we looked before from
the Mount of Olives ; and leaving the city by St.
Stephens Gate we journey along “ The Lower
Road to Bethany, south-east from Jerusalem”
(Stereograph No. 33) with our own hearts burn¬
ing within us as we recall how often in those last

the Mount, we gaze upon “Bethany, looking
south from the Eastern Slope of Olivet ” (Stereo¬
graph No. 36); and here, where our Lord’s
earthly ministry in the flesh came to a close, our
present journey must end. Yonder village of
Bethany reminds us of Simon the Leper, of the
anointing of Jesus for his burial, of the domestic
life of Martha and Mary, and of the supreme
miracle in the life of Jesus, the raising of Lazarus
from the dead ; while from somewhere upon this
slope where we are standing the Risen Christ as¬
cended to the Father’s right hand, where he sits
as the divinely appointed and thoroughly qualified
high priest of humanity, “ able to save unto the
uttermost all those that come unto God through
him, seeing he ever liveth to make intercession for
us.” From whence he “shall so come in like
manner as ye beheld him going into heaven” to
judge the quick and the dead, and to reign for¬
ever in glory. In the meantime he says to all who
love him and wait for his appearing “ ye shall
receive power and ye shall be my witnesses unto
the uttermost part of the earth.” Amen: come,
Lord Jesus.

A PROOF AND A METHOD.

THEODORE BROWN.

A BINOCULAR PROOF OF THE BLIND
SPOT IN THE HUMAN EYES — A
STEREOSCOPIC METHOD OF DEM¬
ONSTRATING THE ILLUSION OF
SIZE.

TT is a well known fact that the portion of the
retina occupied by the base of the optic nerve
is insensible to light, and various ways of verify¬
ing the fact have been suggested from time to
time. It is only recently that the author discovered
how admirably the stereoscope was suited to dem¬
onstrate this optical phenomenon.

All that is needed is to make two white marks
on an ordinary stereoscopic slide in the manner
shown in Fig. 23. The distance between the

mysterious disappearance of the white spots will
be clearly understood by making reference to the
diagram Fig. 24. Let us suppose the left-hand
picture to be situated between C and D, and the
right-hand picture to be at A and B, and the eyes
of the observer situated at L and R. The dia¬
gram shows the axes of both eyes turned to the
same point, i. e., H, in the left-hand picture, and
F in the right-hand picture.

Under such circumstances the spot on the right-
hand side only, will he visible, and this only in
the right eye, R, at J, the other spot, E, on the
picture, C, D, being invisible, because the rays
emanating therefrom fall upon the base of the
optic nerve in the left eye, L, at K, the surface of
which is insensible to light. Now suppose the

Fig. 23.

white spots should be four and a half inches.
On examining this slide in a stereoscope the ob¬
server should first direct his attention to the centre
of the picture, namely, the portion occupied by
the door of the summer-house. Whilst his atten¬
tion is centred here, he will notice that on either
side of the combined image there is a white spot.
Now if the axis of the eyes are turned towards the
left-hand side spot, the other one will immediately
vanish from view, and if, on the other hand, the
eyes are directed towards the right-hand side spot,
the left-hand spot will vanish. The cause of this

attention be turned towards the opposite side of the
combined image, rays emanating from F will at
once fall upon the base of the optic nerve in the
other eye, R, with the result that the spot, F, will
vanish, and the other spot, E, come into view.

Those of our readers who do not wish to sacri¬
fice a photograph for this experiment, may produce
the same results by drawing for themselves the
diagram Fig. 25. In this case there will, of
course, be no stereoscopic relief, but such is not
essential to the phenomenon. After adjusting the
focus in the usual way, the axes of both eyes

Page 74

The TRAVELLER

should be turned to the letter A, and, as with the
photograph in the first instance, the observer will
be conscious of a spot on either side of the com¬
bined image, and by turning the attention from

Fig. 24.

one spot to the other, the one situated at an
oblique angle to the axes will be invisible.

A STEREOSCOPIC METHOD OF DEMONSTRATING THE
ILLUSION OF SIZE.

In addition to being a useful instrument for
demonstrating the presence of a blind spot in the
human eyes, the stereoscope is also eminently
suited for proving other, and stranger optical
effects to which binocular vision is subject.

Mental calculations, through the visual organs,
are subject to a great variety of illusions, and
cannot be depended upon for absolute
correctness. In estimating the size of
a given object we generally resort to
methods of comparison.

Our previous experience and educa¬
tion in the dimensions of things
doubtless helps us largely to form a
fairly accurate idea. But there is
always an uncertainty of correctness
because there is always a possibility of
illusion.

A man short of stature will appear

to be even shorter than he really is whilst he
walks by the side of a very tall person. In color,
the artist can create various sensations in the mind
of the observer by introducing degrees of contrast
in his picture. In short, there are a number of
ways in which the mind may be so acted upon
that it becomes quite incapable of accurately esti¬
mating the exact nature and dimensions of visible
objects.

That the mind is subject particularly to the
illusion of size may be thus clearly shown :—
Place the accompanying diagram, Fig. 26, in an
ordinary stereoscope, adjust the view carrier so
that the two arrows are superimposed. It will be
seen at once that, on the left-hand side of the
arrow, the small circle A, appears nearer to the
eyes than the larger one does, whilst on the right-
hand side of the arrow, the small circle B, ap¬
pears behind the larger one. It will thus be seen
that the former presents the appearance of a cone
with its base farthest from the eyes, and that the
latter presents the effect experienced when looking
through a tube. The illusion of size is seen by
comparing A, with the circle B, when it will be
seen that although the diameters of both are iden¬
tical in size, yet the mind appreciates A, as the
smaller of the two. It is difficult to define with
any degree of certainty the cause of the illusion.
There is obviously a change in the eyes’ axes as
the attention is turned from A to B, but this does
not necessitate re-adjustment of the optical com¬
bination. Once having placed the view at a suit¬
able distance for distinct vision, no further adapta¬
tion of the focus will be required. Hence we
know that the images of the two circles, A and B,
are projected upon the retina, identical in size.
This leads us to suppose the existence of some
power in the mind which dominates over the visual
faculties, leading the observer to appreciate retinal
impression not merely from the area of excitation,
but also with some regard to mental calculations.
In other words, we might say, the mind pre-

Fig. 25.

A PROOF AND A METHOD

Page 75

©'©

Hig. 20.

viously disciplined under the set laws
of perspective and mathematical rules,
refuses to estimate the dimensions of
retinal impression entirely from the
points of stimulation.

In the stereoscope, B, perspectively
represents the interior of a long tube,
and the conditions are, to all practical
purposes, identical with nature. In
nature the further end of a tube would
appear smaller than the end closer to
the eyes, but previous education of the
mental faculties informs the mind that
the nearer end is only apparently larger
than the other, and that if we resort
to tangible means of measurement, applying a
twelve inch rule, we shall find the diameter of both
ends to be the same.

Thus B, binocularly viewed by means of the
stereoscope, fully supports the idea such as would
be formed in the mind, when looking through a

tube in the natural manner. Similar remarks
might be made in reference to the cone on the left-
hand side of the arrow. The explanation thus
advanced is that, under certain conditions the
physical energy is made subservient to the more
powerful exertions of the mind.

A VICISSITUDE OF TRAVELLING.

The Monk :—“ Hello, Mr. Tusker ! What’s happened to your trunk ? ”

Mr. Tusker : Took a railroad trip the other day and ran up against a baggage-smasher! ”

Page 76

The TRAVELLER

REGRETS.

(Farmer Popcorn, on his
first voyage) “ Sakes alive!
but I wuz a fool to give thet
thar money to the Steamboat
Company. I might just as
well have bought a nice
comf’able grave with a tomb¬
stone on it.”

The Prosch Manufacturing Company announces
its removal on May 1st from 389 Broome Street to
new and larger quarters at 145 to 151 West 18th
Street, New York City. This company has been
located at the old address throughout the past
seventeen years, and during that time it has
placed on the market several of the most successful
photographic shutters and magnesium flash lamps
ever offered to photographers. These include the
original Prosch shutter, the “Duplex,” and the
later models, the “Triplex,” “Athlete,” “Tri¬
plex-Stereoscopic,” “Athlete-Triplex,” and the
new “ Diaplane ” shutters, as well as the “ Light¬
ning,” “Professional,” and the new “Proschlire”
Storage Flash Lamps. These products will now
be manufactured on a much larger scale. With
its greatly increased capacity, additional modern
machinery, and ample space, it will be able to fill
orders much more promptly than in the past.

The newest Prosch shutter is the “ Diaplane ”
which is made in two styles called the “ Diaplane
I ” for amateurs, and “ Diaplane II ” for pro¬
fessionals and advanced amateurs. The “ Dia¬
plane I ” has a range of speed from time and bulb
and slow instantaneous exposures to 1-200th of a
second and ranges in price from $17.00 for the
No. 1 size to $22.00 for the No. 6. This is the
best shutter ever offered to the amateur. The
“ Diaplane II ” has an extremely wide range of
speed, its maximum being i-6ooth of a second,
actual time. This is the best and most widely
serviceable shutter ever offered to the professional.
Send to the Prosch Manufacturing Company, 149
West 18th St., New York City, for the new
“Diaplane” Shutter Catalogue.

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“Cardinal Rampolla.”

To prove the reliability of the endorsement and gold
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Messrs. Mariani & Co. will cheerfully forfeit to charitable
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In writing to advertisers please mention The Traveller.

The TRAVELLER

“The District School.”

<7/ie

PHOTOCRA

Why Wide-awake Teachers

jUO tjf Oil -K^HOULT everywhere read the

><PHOTO ERA” regularly?

ILLUJTRATED MONTH DC

THE. AMERICAN JOURNAL, ■
OF PHOTOGRAPHS

B0STONPH1LADELPH1A CHICAGO

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in the opinion of the best educators, is destined to revolutionize the science of education.
2d—BECAUSE “The Photo Era” is the only publication in the country that follows the
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3d—BECAUSE the beautiful half-tone pictures and carefully written text of “ The Photo
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Why not join the army of “ Photo Era ” readers, and become a winner ?

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is a small instrument
by the aid of which
ordinary Stereoscopic
Views may be examined.
The effect of relief ob¬
tained is even greater
and more natural than
that secured when using
the ordinary American
Stereoscope.

Note—T his Stereoscope is
eminently suited for examining
the views appearing in “ The
Traveller.”

Highly Recommended by Leading Photographic Journals

The Pocket Stereoscope will be sent free to any part of the United Kingdom for 1/6;
Abroad, 6d. extra.

Don’t go to the expense of special apparatus for Stereoscopic work, when by using one of

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Prospectus , Testimonials , and Press Opinions free on application to

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For beautiful Specimen Slide produced by the Transmitter; enclose 4d. The Trans¬
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In writing to advertisers, please mention The Traveller.

The TRAVELLER

xii

Coming O

NEW

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Greece

An invaluable series of rare subjects,
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The TRAVELLER

xiii

UT SOON

SERIES

EGYPT, IRELAND

India

Embracing rare and beautiful photographs of
wonderful ancient rock-hewn temples and
palaces. Striking and impressive Himalaya
Mountain scenery and strange Oriental life.

Elephant
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Huge

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Including a most interesting collection, repre¬
senting the quaint life and charming scenery of
this fascinating Isle. Many ancient places of
historic interest, such as Glendalough, Cion-
macnoise, Londonderry, Athlone.

TTNDRRWOOT) Main Office: Fifth Ave. OTTAWA, KAN.

UH17UJA; U and 19th St., New York SAN FRANCISCO, CAL.

XIV

The TRAVELLER

4x5 Plastigmat f- 6.8

ACTUAL SIZE
5 x 7 has same size mount

Bausch ® Lomb

Photographic

LENSES SHUTTERS

Sold ’Round the World

are made by the oldest and best equipped lens making establishment

in America

Bausch % Lomb-Zeiss Anastigmats and Plastigmats
__with Volute Shutters

Are Regularly Furnished on All High Grade Cameras

When buying your camera this year see that it is equipped with one of our superb lenses,
making it possible to do every kind of photography, and the best photography with one outfit.

If your camera has a Bausch & Lomb lens or shutter you can compete for the

$3,000.00 for Photographs

which is offered absolutely without reserve to users of our lenses and shutters. Sendfor Booklet.

Catalog of Prism Field Glasses, Microscopes, Projection Lanterns on request.

Bausch O. Lomb Optical Co., Rochester, N. Y.

NEW YORK
25th St. and Broadway

BOSTON
120 Boylston St.

CHICAGO

Wabash and Monroe Sts.

You would be

Surprised!

what a much TV * , . . that favorite

better .... JL L LI i V-/ landscape would

make if enlarged, say three or four diameters. TRY IT.

WRITE FOR PRICE-LIST OF

Bromide

Enlargements

Sepia and Platino Tones
Royal and Celeste

Matte, Rough or Enameled, for Portrait, Landscape or
Architectural Subjects.

“ Looks like a contact print.”—an oft-heard comment.

H. D. BRIDLE, Successor^ to^R idle

913 Arch St.
PHILADELPHIA, PA.

^ToflQ ' s

ALVISTA

SSSffiffileH!

You can take the whole view with one snap, or,
with some models, stop the lens at five different
places, and thus make five different widths of
pictures, all depending on just how much of
the view you wish. These are features no
other camera possesses.

OUR CO-OPERATIVE PLAN
We now send you any camera described in our
catalogue upon a small payment being made.
The remainder you may pay in monthly instal¬
ments while you are using the ^camera. Write
us for full information about this.

MULTISCOPE & FILM CO.

1283 Jefferson Street, BURLINGTON, WIS.

The TRAVELLER

.STEREO-JIM PLEA.

(“Flip-Flop” Tripod Top)

SELF-ADJUSTING PARALLELISM.

Patented in U. S. A., Nov. 11, 1902.
Foreign Patents Pending.

This new article, designed to produce stereoscopic pictures
with any ordinary hand—or single lens camera, or
kodak, is a light compact mechanical device, simple in construc¬
tion, of a small pocket size, and easy to manipulate. Whether
you are equipped for films or plates it serves the purpose equally
well. In use it is intersected between the tripod and
camera, and after the first exposure is made allows automatic
instantaneous self-adjustment in new position, whereby the
camera is moved parallel sideways a distance correspond¬
ing to the distance between the human eyes, and then
the second exposure is made. Its ingenious construc¬
tion guarantees perfect parallelism of the camera
in the two predetermined positions absolutely neces-

CAMERA IN POSITION.
FIRST EXPOSURE.

sary for the stereoscopic effect.

CAMERA SWUNG OVER.
SECOND EXPOSURE.

Stereo-Simplex (“Flip Flop” Tripod Top) . $1.25
Stereoscopic (Aluminum Hood and Lens Lock) 1.00
Stereo-Simplex and Stereoscope together . . 2.00
On Receipt of Price, Forwarded Prepaid by Mail.

FOR SALE BY DEALERS

Throughout the United States and Canada, or write

THOMSEN BROS.,

Buffalo, N. y., u s. A

Bailey & Ailing

Dealers in

MAHOGANY

ASH

eYPRESS

WHITEWOOD

And other woods

Estimates given on architect’s specifica=
tions for school buildings, libraries, etc.
Shipments made to all points.

- YARDS:-

Foot of Clay St., NEWARK, N. J.

From daylight to candle-light : you are sure of
twelve perfect prints from each dozen sheets.

PRICES.

4x5, 15c. doz. 6)4 x 8 l A, 55c. doz.

5x7, 30c. doz. 8 x 10, 70c. doz.

If you want the best bromide paper, buy
1 ‘ Rotograph.’’

Sample copy of the Photo Critic, containing
every month, articles on “The A to Z of
Photography,” Of interest to amateur and
professional. Sent on request.

SUBSCRIPTION $1.00 PER YEAR.

write ROTOGRAPH

Dept. J, 101 5th Avenue, - - N. Y. CITY.

PRINTS
IN ANY UGH

XVI

The TRAVELLER

JUST PUBLISHED

Descriptive Books

With Eeiu Patent JMLaps

The “CHINESE” Tour —by Prof. James Ricalton, explaining 100 Original

- Stereoscopic Photographs of the Chinese Empire.

Price of Tour, including Book and Case, $17.75.

The “ITALIAN

TOUT — b yD. J- Ellison, D.D., explaining 100 Original Stereo¬
scopic Photographs of Sunny Italy.

Price of Tour, including Book and Case, $18.00.

The “SWISS” Tour —by M. S. Emery, explaining 100 Original Stereoscopic

___Photographs of Switzerland.

Price of Tour, including Book and Case, $17.60.

“ YOSFMITF ” Tour— b y Charles Quincy Turner, formerly editor of
- Outing, explaining 24 Original Stereoscopic Photo¬
graphs of the Yosemite Valley.

Price of Tour, including Booklet and Case, $4.00.

Any of the above sent express prepaid on receipt of price.

London, E » g . XJNDERWOOD & UNDERWOOD,

Toronto, Can. 7

New York, N. Y.

Ottawa, Kan.

San Francisco, Cal.

In writing to advertisers, please mention The Traveller.

The TRAVELLER

XVI1

To Our Subscribers!

An enlarged photograph (size 8x10)
from which the illustration on our front
cover was made, on a beautiful matted
paper with wide margins ready for
framing, will be mailed to any of our
subscribers on receipt of 25 cents.

CRAMER’S

BANNER X PLATES

COMBINE

A 11 the qualities
N ecessary to produce the best
N egatives. They are
E asy to develop. In
Rapidity and uniformity they
Xcell all other brands.

MANUFACTURED BY

Q. CRAMER DRY PLATE CO.

ST. LOUIS, MO. -

offtpfs tn ) NEW YORK: CHICAGO: SAN FRANCISCO:

/ 32 East !0th Street Room. 1211 Masonic Temple. Room 38, 819 Market Street.

In writing to advertisers, please mention The Traveller.

xviii

The TRAVELLER

Investments of
Permanent Value.

Picturesque “Tours” of Original Stereoscopic Photographs put up in neat leatherette cases,
as indicated below, and arranged in the order a tourist would visit the actual places.

Our latest improved Aluminum-Mahogany Stereoscope sells for 90 cents. This is not included
in the prices given below. A higher-priced stereoscope can be furnished if desired.

The “Palestine” Tour—100 Original Stereoscopic Photographs, descriptive book, in cloth, by
Dr. J. L. Hurlbut, with new Patent Map System and Leatherette Case—$17.60.

The “Egypt and its Wonders” Tour—100 Original Stereoscopic Photographs, descriptive
book, in cloth, and Leatherette Case—$16.60.

The “Russian” Tour—100 Original Stereoscopic Photographs and descriptive book by M. S.
Emery, with new Patent Map System and Leatherette Case—$17.60.

The “Chinese” Tour—100 Original Stereoscopic Photographs, descriptive book, in cloth, by
James Ricalton, with eight Patent Maps and Leatherette Case—$17.75.

The “Italian” Tour—100 Original Stereoscopic Photographs, descriptive book, in cloth, by
D. J. Ellison, D. D., with ten Patent Maps and Leatherette Case—$18.00.

The “Rome” Tour (a part of the Italian Tour)—46 Stereoscopic Photographs, descriptive
book, in cloth, with five Patent Maps and Case—$8.60.

The “Swiss” Tour—100 Original Stereoscopic Photographs, descriptive book, in cloth, by
M. S. Emery, with eleven Patent Maps and Leatherette Case—$17.60.

The “Paris Exposition” Tour—60 Original Stereoscopic Photographs, Map with new Patent
System and Description and Leatherette Case—$10.00.

The “Spanish” Tour—100 Original Stereoscopic Photographs, and Leatherette Case—$16.60.

The “Portugese” Tour —60 Original Stereoscopic Photographs, and Leatherette Case—$10.00.

The “Austrian” Tour—81 Original Stereoscopic Photographs, and Leatherette Case—$14.00.

The “ Great Britain” Tour-100 Original Stereoscopic Photographs and Leatherette Case—
$16.60.

The “Grecian” Tour—72 Original Stereoscopic Photographs, and Leatherette Case—$12.00.

The “Japanese” Tour—72 Original Stereoscopic Photographs, and Leatherette Case—$12.00.

The “ Philippine ” Tour - 100 Original Stereoscopic Photographs, and Leatherette Case—$16.60.

The “Cuban and Porto Rican” Set—100 Original Stereoscopic Photographs and Leatherette
Case—$16.60.

The “ Spanish-American War” Set —100 Original Stereoscopic Photographs, and Leatherette
Case—$16.60. (A set of 72 and case—$12.00.)

The “Mexican” Tour 100 Original Stereoscopic Photographs and Leatherette Case—$16.60.

The “Trip Around the World” Tour—72 Original Stereoscopic Photographs, with descrip¬
tive book and Leatherette Case — $12.00.

The “Niagara Fails” Tour—18 Original Stereoscopic Photographs, with neat Case and de¬
scriptive book, with two Patent Maps-$3.00.

The “ Yosemite” Tour—24 Original Stereoscopic Photographs, descriptive book by Chas. Q.
Turner, with Patent Map and Case $4.00.

“President McKinley” Set - Containing 60 Stereographs in a neat Leatherette Case, with
descriptive book-$10.50; or in a genuine leather case, velvet lined, with inscription stamped in
silver—$12.00.

Other tours on “United States,” “France,” “Scandinavia,”
“Germany,” “South African War,” etc.

We advise our customers to purchase a complete series on the countries they may be interested
in. One hundred Stereoscopic Photographs of one country will generally give much better satis¬
faction than the same number scattered over several countries. Many of our patrons are placing
all of our Educational Stereoscopic Tours in their homes alongside of the standard works in their
libraries. Schools and public libraries are finding our Stereographs indispensable in their work.
The United States Government considers them so valuable that all Educational Tours published to
date, with the new Underwood Extension Cabinet, were recently purchased for the U. S. Military
Academy at West Point.

When two or more of the “100” tours are wanted, we recommend the “New Underwood
Extension Cabinet,” the only practical Stereograph Cabinet in existence. It can be “built up”
from time to time, as desired, holding from 200 to 2.000 Stereographs or more.

We shall be pleased to send to any one interested our book on “The Stereoscope and Stere¬
oscopic Photographs,” by Dr. Oliver Wendell Holmes.

£:S-dL 0 . rK E„,. UNDERWOOD & UNDERWOOD, SSS?i?-

In writing to advertisers, please mention The Traveller.

The TRAVELLER

xix

ami

mm > 1

•: ■■ ■*'.

Ml- / . . ’ & . '2lSf

Photographic Perfection

is attained by making yoxir negatives on

A.JVSCO: the fletv 'Daylight Loading Film

and your prints on

CFK.O: the Taper that Prints at flight

ANSCO and CYKO have no peers in Keeping Quality
and in Latitude of Exposure and Development

Triad Dozen 4x5 CYKO and Developer, 20 cents

Cy/CO fllantial and C O HooKlet sent on application

THE ANTHONY S. SCOVILL CO.

122-124 Fifth Ave., NEW YORK

Atla.s Block, CHICAGO

In writing to advertisers, please mention The Traveller.

The TRAVELLER

Progress

■" Stereoscopic
Camera
Construction,

GRAPHIC

STEREO,

THE

STEREOSCOPIC GRAPHIC

is more perfectly exemplified by the
introduction of the new

REVERSIBLE BACK CYCLE GRAPHIC

Graphic Triple-Lens Stereo and Graflex Stereo Cameras

for 1903, than has marked the long and interesting history of this fascinating
branch of Photography. They are the world’s standard, equiped with the

Graphic Focal-Plane Shutter.

Write for Booklet.

Used by
UNDERWOOD
& UNDERWOOD

the Tolmer & Scbiving Wfg. Co.

Center, Broome and Elm Sts., Tlcw York, Ti. YU. S. JR.

Did Vou Ever Use Press Clippings?

Want to know everything possible about any-
DO thing?

Want clippings of every article published on
YOU any topic in the American or Foreign press;

__ weeklies, dailies, magazines and trade papers?

Want to obtain early advantage of a trade situation ?

Want the quickest news of proposed new stores, bridges, fac¬
tories, conventions, clubs, incorporations.

Want to compile a scrap-book on a special subject?

Want to prepare a response to a toast; speak in a debating
club or elsewhere; paper or essay in a literary club, or any¬
thing of that nature?

The easiest, surest, quickest, most economical way is to
secure the services of our large staff of trained readers*
Business Men are using clippings and get reliable
tips which lead to business on the “ follow-up ” plan. Tell
us the nature of your business and we will supply valuable
clippings of new items daily, that will aid you in making that
business profitable. Sr .00 a month and upwards.

United States Press Clipping Bureau,

153 La Salle St. Chicago, Ill., Send stamp for booklet.

Yale men know and the New Haven TTniott
says: “ The question of what in the world to
give a friend is solved by

SONGS OF ALL THE COLLEGES

which is alike suitable for the collegian of
the past, for the student of the present, and
for the boy (or girl) with hopes; also for the
music-loving sister and a fellow’s best girl.”
“All the new songs , all the old songs ,
and the songs popular at all the colleges;
a welcome gif t in any home any where!'
>1.60—BOOK STOKES. MUSIC DEALBBS.—$1.50
HINDS & NOBLE, Publishers,
4-5-6-12-13-14 Cooper Institute, New York

—

--1*— 2

~t-d

l — *1

In writing to advertisers, please mention The Traveller,

Are use
fessii
b>

All the Stereo
this magazine b

\YQnrJ nrp from \
WC

\ opic Pictures

|RK

ssion.

WILL WUKK ll\ ALL CLIMATES

Illustrations used in this magazine are many of
them taken with the above Shutter.

Send for Catalogue

prqsch meg. co.. 359 groome street, new york city.

In writing to advertisers, please mention The Traveller

For Stereoscopic Pictures

Gocrz Double

Anastigmats

Are used by nearly all the leading Pro¬
fessionals and Amateurs either
by selection or necessity to

Obtain

Perfect

Results

All the Stereoscopic reproductions in
this magazine by Underwood & Under-

WO°d are from nhnfns. marlp with this
WC

wh.

wa,

ERS

ssion.

WILL WUKK IN ALL CLIMATES

Illustrations used in this magazine are many of
them taken with the above Shutter.

Send for Catalogue

C STREET, NEW YORK CITY.

In writing to advertisers, please mention The Traveller.

)

Waterbury Brass Co.

New York Warehouse

122 to 130 Centre St.

General Offices & Mills, Waterbury, Conn.
Providence, R. I., 131 Oorrance St.

MARVELOUS EFFECTS

The sensation of actually looking at the things themselves.

The Stereo Weno
Hawk-Eye

is a complete stereoscopic outfit of the highest type in
pocket form. Fitted for regular 3 ^ x 4 ^ cartridge film,
has brilliant finder, automatic iris diaphragm shutter and
double rapid rectilinear lenses, accurately matched, guaran¬
teed to produce perfect perspectives.

PRICE COMPLETE, $25.00

BLAIR CAMERA C0. f Rochester, N. Y.

Hawk-Eye Catalogue free by mail.

Brass and Copper

In Sheet, Tubes, Wire and Rod

German Silver

In Sheet, Rod and Wire

Soldering Coppers
Small Brass Wares

Of Every Description

^ Send for Stock List #

< ^yp£$gi^ro&wciy'

T tf[[/frcittonJ'

etterincf

and

Orirffncf /

iJecora^io/}

E STEREOSCOPIC PHOTOGH

DeJtyner a '&

HALF-TONE F
LINE CUTS
WOOD CUTS
ELECTROTVP

LITHOGRAPHI

PRINTING

The Corn
Exchange Bank

William and Beaver Streets
NEW YORK

THOMAS T. BARR

VICE-PRESIDENT

WALTER E. FREW

VICE-PRESIDENT

WILLIAM A. NASH

PRESIDENT

FREDERICK T. MARTIN

CASHIER

WILLIAM E. WILLIAMS
ASSISTANT CASHIER

CAPITAL SURPLUS AND PROFITS, $5,000,000

Fifth Avenue Branch

Fifth Avenue and 19th Street

WILLIAM A. DAVIES, MANAGER

d o i s o r t/ S/2 o a r d

William A. Nash
Wm. F. Havemeyer
Clarence H. Kelsey Pres.
S. D. Styles

Wm. Rhinelander Stewart
Bradish Johnson Pres. V.
J . M. BOWERS

Robt. D. Andrews Mgr.
F. A. 0. Schwartz -
W. Felsinger
Benedict J. Gkeenhut
P. W. Martin
Walter E. Frew

President
- Capitalist

Title Guarantee and Trust Co.

Retired
Real Estate
S. Reality and Construction Co.

Bowers & Sands, Attorneys
Household Serving; Machine Co.

Importer of Toys
Pres. N. Y. Savings Bank
Siegel Cooper & Co.

Retired

Vice-President

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